


Clarke and the Commander

by DoctorCampHogwarts



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Disney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:29:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 32,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8585674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorCampHogwarts/pseuds/DoctorCampHogwarts
Summary: When Clarke's mother in imprisoned by a large beast, Clarke will do anything to save her, even if that means giving up her freedom.





	1. The Curse

“Love is weakness.”

“No. No it isn’t,” the sickly pale girl laying on the bed argued feebly. “Lexa, please.”

“No, Costia. You and three hundred of my warriors lie dead and dying because of my love for you. Love is weakness.”

“You listened to Titus too much. Love is strength,” Costia said as fiercely as she could.

“Love is weakness.”

“So you’re going to stand there arguing with me about it until I die?”

“Yes.”

“You always were a stubborn one, Lexa.”

Lexa spun around and dropped to her knees beside the dying form of the woman she loved.

“I will never love another for as long as I live,” she vowed.

Costia shook her head and smiled sadly. “Love is strength,” she whispered.

“I will not listen to this again,” Lexa growled, spinning up and away.

“Then you will listen to this,” Costia ordered. “Until you can learn that love is not weakness, you and the remainder of your people will be frozen in time and will not age and you will be transformed into the embodiment of the Commander that you are.”

Lexa whirled around at the declaration. “Costia,” she warned.

“I love you, Lexa,” Costia breathed, her last breath flowing past her lips.

“Costia, no!” Lexa shouted, jolting forward to cradle Costia’s cheek in her hand.

A cry of anguish rent its way past her lips at the sight of her lover’s dead body. Her cries quickly turned to an inhuman scream as a wave of pain washed over her as the curse took hold.

\-----

The Commander stood at the windows of her room overlooking the grounds of her castle. She stared unseeingly at the forest beyond as the memory replayed through her mind for the thousandth time. She vaguely tried to remember when the memory had stopped bringing her pain and had started bringing her only a detached sort of indifference. As if she were an outsider looking in. She couldn’t remember.

After a few more moments, the Commander brushed the thought and the memory aside and turned to stride out of the room. Costia may have cursed them to never age, but the basic necessity of food was still that; a necessity.

She made her way down the grand staircase and headed toward the kitchen. Her thoughts quickly wandered to what she would be doing the next day. If she was being perfectly honest, she’d be doing the same thing she did every day; sitting around and doing nothing but sparring with Anya or one of her other warriors/servants.

Her thoughts were quickly interrupted as the babble of voices from down the hall caught her attention. The flicker of firelight alerted her to which room the noise was coming from as she made her way toward it. She immediately honed in on the sound of an unfamiliar voice coming from the room, her strides becoming angry and purposeful.

She burst into the room with an icy blast of wind. The door slammed against the wall beside her and the fire in the grate flickered and sputtered, but didn’t go out. Her servants immediately cowered backwards, only Raven and Anya not moving except to flinch.

“What is the meaning of this?” she growled, taking in the older woman sitting in the arm chair before flicking her gaze and wrath onto her two most trusted lieutenants.

“It’s cold and snowing outside, Commander,” Raven explained, taking a slight step forward. “I couldn't just leave her out there to die.”

“I told her it was a bad idea,” Anya interjected.

Raven immediately rounded on her. The grip on her cane tightened slightly as anger coursed through her. “You did not.”

Anya immediately opened her mouth to argue.

“Enough!” the Commander shouted. Raven and Anya immediately took a step back, their heads down slightly.

Before the Commander could say another word, the woman in the armchair stood up. A low growl started in the back of the Commander’s throat as the woman started to speak.

“Please, Commander,” the woman pleaded, her eyes darting to Raven and Anya as if seeking confirmation of the title. The Commander watched on coldly as Raven gave a minute nod before the woman turned to look at her again. “I’m sorry to have intruded. But I got cornered by some bandits in the woods and my horse frightened and took off. I saw your castle through the gates and needed a place to stay.”

The Commander locked her jaw angrily and stepped into the firelight, rising to her full seven foot height. A grim pull of satisfaction washed over her at the shock and fear that settled over the woman’s features.

“You want a place to stay?” the Commander growled. “I’ll give you a place to stay!”

She suddenly lunged forward and grabbed the back of the woman’s collar, ignoring the feeble protests from everyone else in the room. She immediately turned and bodily dragged the woman out of the room. She could vaguely hear Raven and Anya hurrying after her as she made her way to the dungeons.

“Please. Please,” the woman pleaded, clawing at the material of the Commander’s black armor. All it did was aggravate her further. “My daughter needs me. I’m all she has left. Please.”

The Commander angrily flung open the door to one of the dungeon cells and lifted the woman up until they were face to face.

“You should have thought of that before you trespassed into my castle!” the Commander roared before flinging the woman into the cell and slamming the door shut.

She whirled around, her cape fanning out behind her, to take in Raven and Anya’s shocked and fearful expressions. She quickly brushed aside the sharp stab of guilt she felt before speaking.

“No one goes near her except for me,” she commanded. Raven immediately opened her mouth to argue, but shut it just as quickly as the Commander’s fierce green eyes flashed a warning. “I will have no more of your insubordination, Raven.” Raven immediately hung her head and nodded slightly. “The same goes for you, Anya.” The other woman immediately nodded. “Now go tell the others.”

Raven and Anya immediately spun around and made their way out of the dungeon. The Commander watched them leave before turning to glance at the door of the cell the woman now occupied. Anger coursed through her, crushing any guilt she felt.

Without a second thought, the Commander spun back around and made her way out of the dungeon and to the kitchen in search of something to eat.


	2. The Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving for all of you who celebrate it today. For all of you who don't, happy November 24th. I hope you enjoyed whatever you had for dinner and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

“Good morning, Princess.” Clarke groaned internally at the voice, preparing herself for the conversation to come. “What are you doing out on such a fine morning?”

“I’m on my way back from the paint shop.”

“The paint shop, Clarke? Really? Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Yes, Finn. The paint shop. And, yes, actually, I do have better things to do.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Finn said with a sly grin.

“Like painting, Finn,” Clarke interrupted exasperatedly, shoving her way past the man.

“Wouldn’t you rather be doing something better than painting, Clarke?”

“Like what?” Clarke asked exasperatedly, already knowing where the conversation was going.

“Like being home, watching over your six or seven young boys and waiting for your husband to get home from a successful hunting trip.”

“Not really. No.”

“Marry me, Clarke.”

Clarke nearly tripped in surprise at the declaration, but caught herself just in time. “Excuse me?”

“Marry me, Clarke,” Finn repeated, watching her almost hungrily.

“I’m sorry, Finn, but I’m afraid I’m really going to have to decline.”

“You can’t resist me forever, Clarke.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Finn immediately opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as he tumbled into the river, not realizing they had reached the bridge and completely missing it. Clarke took the opportunity to hurry away from the man and continue home.

“I’ll have you as my bride, Clarke!” Finn vowed as she walked away. “If it’s the last thing I do!”

\-----

Clarke scowled at the memory of what had happened that morning. She quickly lowered her brush and stopped herself from marring the half finished painting in front of her. She looked out over the valley spread out before her from her vantage point on the hill and took a deep breath, calming her anger.

She wondered for the hundredth time why Finn was so dead set on marrying her. There were many other eligible women in the town she and Finn called home, all of which would have accepted his proposal in a heartbeat. She, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with him.

She quickly shook the thoughts away and turned back to her painting, much calmer than before.

A while later, Clarke looked up from her finished painting to find the sun reaching its apex in the sky. She started to pack her things as she ran a mental list, wondering what she could make for her mother for when she got back home from her ride.

The sun beat down on her from above as she slung her bag over her shoulder and tentatively held her painting so as not to smudge the still drying paint before starting her walk home. She quickly settled on potatoes and meat to prepare for supper and smiled at her choice. It had always been her mother’s favorite.

Before her thought process could go any further, a horse suddenly burst from the tree line and started to race its way toward her. Clarke froze in place as she realized the horse was her family horse, Bear, with no rider.

She quickly snapped out of her daze and dashed over to the horse, dropping her painting and nearly getting trampled in the process.

“Bear! Bear!” Clarke shouted, trying to calm the horse down. “Where’s Mother?”

Clarke grabbed the reins as Bear immediately reared up and whined loudly, shaking his head furiously.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Clarke swung up into Bear’s saddle.

“Take me to her,” Clarke ordered, tugging on the reins.

Bear hesitated slightly, taking a slight step back from the woods in front of them. Clarke bravely set her jaw and dug her heels in. Bear hesitated a split second longer before plunging into the woods.

\-----

Bear quickly brought Clarke to a large castle, seeming to not want to stay in the woods any longer than he had to. Clarke slowly slid off Bear and stared up in awe at the castle before her.

The castle stood more stories high than she could count and towered over everything, casting it into shadow. She vaguely wondered how she couldn’t see the castle from her home as she took in the rest of it. An aura of neglect encompassed the building. Clarke frowned at the derelict beauty of the castle, wishing she could have seen it before it had suffered at the hands of time.

Her eyes scanned the castle from the top of the tallest tower to the ajar gates right in front of her. Her gaze ran across the design of the wrought iron gates before landing on the ground right in front of it, her blood running cold at what she found.

She darted forward, quickly picking up her father’s wedding band off the ground. An image of her mother wearing the band on a cord around her neck flashed through Clarke’s mind. She knew her mother wouldn't part with the band easily. She hadn’t once taken it off since Clarke’s father died.

Clarke’s fist clenched around the band as she looked up at the castle towering before her. She threw her shoulders back and clenched her jaw as she steeled herself to enter the castle before grabbing Bear’s reigns and leading him past the slightly open front gate.

“Stay here, Bear,” Clarke murmured, letting go of his reigns and leaving him just inside the gates. She carefully placed the wedding band in her satchel as she stepped forward.

The horse shuffled slightly as Clarke made her way to the front door.

Without looking back, she slowly opened the doors and stepped inside.

Darkness met her as she closed the door. Faint light filtered through the grimy windows of the front hall, illuminating outlines of furniture.

“Hello,” Clarke called softly, taking a tentative step forward.

Before Clarke could start making a decision as to where to start looking for her mother, a throat cleared itself off to her right. Clarke whipped around in the direction of the noise, squinting in the darkness to see if anybody was there.

“Hello,” she called again. “Is anybody there?”

The soft patter of retreating footsteps was the only answer she received.

“Hey,” Clarke called once again, slightly louder than before. “Hey. Where are you going? Wait for me.”

She immediately made her way after the retreating footsteps, following them down a hallway and a winding set of stone steps before reaching what was obviously a dungeon.

A pool of moonlight illuminated a single door to one of the cells, leaving the rest of the dungeon in darkness. Clarke hesitated at the foot of the stone steps, straining to find any sign of her mother or the person she had followed in the shadows of the corners of the room

“Hello,” she called for the third time.

“Clarke?” a voice suddenly said from the cell door. “Clarke? Is that you?”

“Mother?” Clarke exclaimed, rushing to the cell door. She threw herself in front of the door, reaching for her mother’s outstretched hand through the bars. “Mother? Are you okay? We need to get you out of here.”

She immediately started to scan the cell door, looking for any way to get it open.

“No. No. Clarke,” her mother urged, lunging forward to grab Clarke’s hand. “No. You have to get out of here, Clarke. Save yourself.”


	3. A Trade

“Why are you doing this, Lexa?”

The Commander scowled down at the meager plate of what she was preparing for the trespasser.

“Anya,” she warned.

“Is this about breaking the curse?” Anya pressed. “Do you think she’s the one to break the curse?”

The Commander scoffed as she picked up the plate and started out of the kitchen, Anya quickly following. “She’s not my type.”

“She did say something about a daughter,” Anya supplied.

“And what do you want me to do about it?” the Commander snapped.

“Offer a trade,” Anya suggested.

“With what?” the Commander demanded as they reached the top of the steps that lead to the dungeon and made their way down. “I have nothing to trade. Besides, love is weakness. Nothing will change that. The curse will never be broken.”

“Lexa,” Anya immediately said.

“Shut up,” the Commander growled lowly, stopping before they could reach the bottom of the steps.

“No. You need to hear this,” Anya argued.

“Shut up,” the Commander growled again, shoving the plate she was holding into Anya’s hands.

Anya looked at her in confusion as she unsheathed her sword from its scabbard on her back. The Commander strained her inhuman hearing as the sound of two voices coming from the dungeon washed over her.

An angry roar ripped its way past her lips as the Commander rushed down the last few steps leading to the dungeon. She raised her sword as she reached the dungeon floor, ready to strike down the second intruder of the day. Her patience was wearing too thin.

Instead, she screeched to a halt right outside the circle of light in the dungeon as she caught sight of one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen.

The blonde had half of her hair braided and held back with a blue ribbon that matched the blue dress she wore underneath a black riding cloak. The Commander’s heart stopped as her fiery green eyes met the oceanic blue of the other woman’s. It quickly started again, pounding against her ribs as if trying to break free.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Commander demanded, suddenly catching sight of Raven hiding in the gloom across the dungeon. Raven just looked back at her in defiance just like she always did. She would have to deal with that later.

The blonde woman stood up and took a slight step toward the Commander. She gestured back at the woman in the cell imploringly.

“Please,” the girl pleaded. “I just came here to find my mother. I need to take her back to town. She’s sick.”

The Commander scowled. “She trespassed. She isn’t allowed to leave.”

“So you’re just going to let her die?” the blonde woman demanded.

“Her crime cannot go unpunished,” the Commander argued.

“Then take me instead,” the blonde bargained. “Let her go back to town and keep me here instead.”

The Commander’s anger was quickly replaced by surprise. She frowned in confusion, trying to understand why the blonde was offering to be locked in an old castle instead of going free and living her life.

“You would do that?” the Commander asked uncertainly.

The blonde woman remained where she was, studying the spot where the Commander still stood enshrouded in darkness. She seemed to be deliberating something.

“Step into the light,” the blonde finally requested.

The Commander hesitated for a second before slowly stepping into the light. The blonde immediately flinched at the sight of her fearsome, beastial visage. She felt a spike of admiration for the woman as the blonde held her ground. In the many years of the curse, nobody had been able to stand their ground when they caught sight of the Commander.

“What is your answer?” the Commander asked.

The fear and surprise in the woman’s eyes was immediately replaced with determination as she squared her shoulders and stared into her green eyes. The Commander scowled internally at the slight flutter her heart did when they locked gazes.

“Yes,” the woman agreed. “I’ll take my mother’s place.”

“Done,” the Commander said, sheathing her sword and darting forward to pull the older woman out of her cell.

“No, Clarke! No!” the woman shouted as the Commander grabbed her collar and started to drag her up the steps and out of the castle.

“Restrain her,” the Commander commanded Anya as she dragged the older woman past her. Anya immediately darted forward to stop the blonde woman, Clarke, from pursuing the duo out of the dungeon.

“Please. Please,” the older woman pleaded as they made their way to the front door of the castle. “Please don’t do this. I’m all she has left.”

“And she is none of your concern anymore,” the Commander growled. She threw open the front door and lifted the woman so that they were eye level. “I don’t want to see you here ever again. Now get out.”

She threw the woman out the door and watched as she scrambled up and ran to her horse that stood by the front gate. She glared at the woman’s back until she and the horse disappeared into the forest. She continued to scowl at the forest for a little while longer before turning and slamming the front door shut.


	4. Offered Dinners

“Let me go,” Clarke demanded, struggling against the woman that was still holding her back. She knew it was hopeless, but it was helping her fight off the overwhelming fear and sadness that was threatening to envelope her.

“Anya,” someone suddenly interjected. Clarke and the other woman, presumably Anya, froze and turned to look at another woman that had just stepped into the circle of moonlight. “Let her go,” the newcomer said. “The Commander is too far away for her to do anything and this castle is a maze to anyone who doesn’t know it.”

Anya slowly let go as if making sure Clarke wasn’t going to make a run for it. Clarke huffed and stood still so she wouldn’t be grabbed again. She was all for being in the arms of a pretty girl, just not under the circumstances.

The second Anya finished letting go, her unreadable expression changed to one of fury as she turned and advanced on the other woman.

“What the hell did you do, Raven?” Anya demanded.

“She was looking for her mother,” Raven explained simply.

“You disobeyed a direct order, Raven,” Anya said exasperatedly. “A direct order. The Commander isn’t going to take kindly to that.”

“If she’s the one,” Raven said, glancing over in Clarke’s direction. “Then it was worth it.”

Clarke frowned in confusion. Anya backed away from Raven and huffed, glaring at her.

“Good luck with that,” Anya warned. “She told me it would never be broken right before we got in here.”

Raven’s eyes glinted in the moonlight as she smiled. “That was before. This is now.”

Anya exhaled and threw her hands up in annoyance, turning around as if she couldn’t look at Raven any longer. Raven watched her for a moment before turning to Clarke, who still stood in the same exact spot, not having a clue what was going on.

“Come on,” Raven said, starting to head toward the dungeon steps. “Anya and I can show you to your room.”

“Aren’t I staying here?” Clarke asked skeptically, motioning back toward the cell her mother had just been pulled out of.

“Do you really want to sleep on the cold, hard stone floor of a dungeon for the foreseeable future?” Raven asked with a smirk.

“Not really. No,” Clarke agreed.

Raven grinned and turned to start out of the dungeon. “It’s settled then. Come on Anya.”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Anya growled, shoving her way past Raven and up the stairs.

“So you’ve said,” Raven quipped happily.

“And yet I’m still following you,” Anya mumbled exasperatedly as if it had happened many times before and she wasn’t sure why.

“It’s 'cause you love me, babe,” Raven said, smiling wide.

Anya smiled slightly in response before Clarke tuned out of their conversation and studied the hall they were walking down in awe.

Suits of armor lined the hall; their dull metal gleaming slightly in the little light shining from the sparse torches that adorned the walls. Shields and all manner of weapons hung from the walls. Swords and knives and bows and crossbows and axes and pikes and maces fought for space all the way from the floor to the ceiling.

Her feeling of awe for the castle grew as they stepped into the front hall and she saw the grand staircase. The dark marble swept up in elegant steps to lead to the rest of the castle. Many large columns lined the walls holding up the second story. Clarke stared appreciatively at the intricate designs decorating the columns to make them look like ancient tree trunks.

Clarke’s gaze ran over the grand staircase again, quickly alighting on the regal figure standing at the top of the stairs. Her initial feeling of fear was quickly chased away by awe and curiosity before being replaced just as quickly with anger as her gaze locked with the Commander’s. The green eyes flashed with a fire Clarke couldn’t place as she kept glaring at the other woman.

She silently followed the still conversing Raven and Anya and took the opportunity to finally get a real look at the Commander.

The Commander stood approximately seven feet tall, her hands clasped behind her and her expression stoic. A long mane of brown hair was pulled away from her face in a series of intricate, interlocking braids. Fur the same color as her hair covered the rest of her, poking out where it wasn’t covered by her black leather armor and blood red cape. The only exception was a black stripe of fur across her striking green eyes, almost like war paint.

“I can take her the rest of the way,” the Commander said quietly, cutting off Raven and Anya’s conversation.

The two women looked at each other for a second before turning away and making their way down the stairs, continuing their earlier bickering and conversing. The Commander watched them go for a moment while Clarke glared at her.

“Follow me,” the Commander suddenly ordered, turning and starting up some more sweeping steps. Clarke quickly hid her surprise and started to follow her down a hall nearly identical to the one downstairs. “I want you to feel welcome here,” the Commander said. Clarke scoffed slightly, rolling her eyes. The Commander’s ears twitched slightly in her direction, but the woman gave no other outward sign she had heard her as she kept talking. “You are welcome to explore the castle as much as you like. Only the West Wing is off limits. Other than that, feel free to explore at your leisure. Dinner will be in an hour.” The Commander came to an abrupt halt in front of a set of double doors. She swiftly pulled one open for Clarke. “I expect to see you there.”

“Thank you,” Clarke replied curtly before stepping into her new room. She wanted to get as far away from the Commander’s fierce gaze as swiftly as she could.

She shut the door closed with a snap as soon as she set foot in the room, not letting the Commander say anything else. She leaned against the door heavily, listening for sounds on the other side.

The Commander stood outside her door for a few moments before turning and walking away swiftly, her cape swishing along the ground slightly.

The second the sound of the Commander’s receding footsteps disappeared, Clarke let a loud sob make its way past her lips. She recalled the small home on the edge of town. She thought of her small room full of paints and charcoal her father had spent years compiling for her. She thought of Mr. Kane, the owner of the paint shop, who always had a kind smile and a new paintbrush for her whenever she stopped by. She thought of her mother and how much better she had been doing as the third anniversary of Clarke’s father’s death approached. Clarke remembered how pale and clammy her mother had looked down in the dungeon; sweat clinging to her brow even in the frigid cold.

Clarke immediately bit back another sob and impatiently wiped away the few tears that had fallen down her cheeks. She swiftly strode over to the large window that adorned one wall of the bedroom, ignoring everything else in the room. She studied the grounds of the castle and forest that sat beyond the castle’s imposing walls. She swiftly checked her bag that no one had bothered to take from her. She silently rummaged past all of the bottles of paint, sheaves of parchment, sticks of charcoal, and clusters of paintbrushes before smiling triumphantly as her hand brushed against the hilt of the knife her father had always made sure she carried.

She pulled it out and studied it as she sat down on the windowsill. A plan started to form in her mind and she grinned grimly as she sat back to wait.


	5. Rejected Dinners

“Where is she?” the Commander demanded, pacing in front of the roaring fireplace. “Octavia. Go get her.”

The girl shot up and hurried to go do what she had asked.

“Give her time,” Lincoln said soothingly from where he sat at the table. “She’s just had her mother and her freedom taken away from her. You’ve got to give her time.”

The Commander nodded slightly, seeing his point, but continued to pace.

“Do you think she’s the one to break the curse?” Raven interjected eagerly.

The Commander and Anya both shot her a glare. She continued to watch the Commander eagerly, waiting for a response.

“It’s crossed my mind, yes,” the Commander conceded, continuing to pace.

“See!” Raven exclaimed excitedly. “You fall in love with her. She falls in love with you. And bam! We’re normal again!”

“It’s not that simple,” the Commander growled.

“Why not?” Raven demanded.

The Commander stopped pacing and stared at her incredulously. “Have you ever actually fallen in love?”

Raven’s gaze immediately flicked over to where Anya was standing, watching her, before flicking back to the Commander. “Yes. And it was that simple for me.”

“But Anya didn’t look like this!” the Commander exploded.

Everybody jumped in surprise. Lincoln immediately started to try and fix the thick line of charcoal that had marred his drawing when he jumped.

“It’s what’s on the inside that counts, Lexa,” Lincoln said, not looking up from what he was doing.

“You think I might have a chance?” the Commander asked him hopefully.

Before he could reply, the door of the room creaked open to reveal Octavia standing in the doorway. The Commander scowled when she saw that Clarke wasn’t with her.

“Where is she?” she growled.

“She, um, she’s,” Octavia stuttered. After a second, she stood up straight and stared at the Commander. “She’s not coming.”

The whole room seemed to hold its breath as the Commander stared at Octavia in disbelief.

“WHAT?!” the Commander roared. Anger flashed white and hot through her.

She immediately stormed out of the room and toward Clarke’s bedroom. She could vaguely hear the two couples scrambling after her.

“Lexa,” Anya shouted.

“Commander,” Raven yelled at the same time.

The Commander ignored their pleading voices and arrived at Clarke’s door in record time. Without a second’s hesitation, she raised her first and banged on the door as hard as she could without breaking it down.

“Come in,” came Clarke’s bitter voice through the door.

The Commander ground her teeth together in anger and frustration as she threw the door open with a bang. The door bounced off the wall with enough force to shut the door again with a loud snap.

The Commander advanced until she was a few feet from where Clarke sat by the window on the window seat, staring out over the forest.

“I invited you to dinner,” the Commander bit out.

“I’m not going,” Clarke responded.

“You-” the Commander growled, advancing on the blonde.

Before she could get very far or say much else, Clarke spun around and pressed a dagger to the Commander’s throat, standing on the bench she had been sitting on to reach.

Shock and awe quickly replaced the Commander’s anger as Clarke pinned her under her intense, blue glare. Her heart immediately softened at the pain and sadness that shone through the anger in Clarke’s eyes.

They stood in the silence for a handful of moments, studying each other.

“I’m sorry,” the Commander whispered.

Clarke’s glare immediately crumbled. She turned away with a sob, the dagger hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud. The Commander watched as the blonde’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Her heart went out to the woman she had trapped in her castle. The Commander wanted nothing more than to ease the pain the other woman was going through.

She stood for a few more minutes before spinning around and walking out the door, closing it behind her with a soft click. Anya, Raven, Lincoln, and Octavia stood just outside, staring at her expectantly.

“Octavia. Guard the door,” she ordered. “Don’t let her leave this room and don’t let anyone go near her. Especially Raven.”

Raven grinned sheepishly in response to the Commander’s glare.

“Can do, Commander,” Octavia replied, resting her hand on the hilt of her dagger.

The Commander nodded slightly before turning and starting to make her way toward her room. “I’m turning in for the night. Dinner’s on the table,” she called over her shoulder bitterly before leaving the four standing in the hallway.


	6. Ninety-Seven Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished my last final today and am done with school for the semester so I thought to myself, why not post two chapters today instead of one to celebrate. I hope you enjoy it and enjoyed the one before this.

Clarke groaned in tandem with the angry grumble of her stomach. She sat up from the bed and glared at her stomach for a few moments.

“Traitor,” she whispered to it, knowing it would have happened eventually, but hoping it would have happened later.

Her stomach replied with another angry growl. She scowled as she got out of bed and padded over to the door, the sound of her shoes muffled by the carpet.

She slowly opened the door and peered out, checking if the coast was clear. She quickly stepped out and closed the door behind her with no more than a whisper of sound. Her feet tread lightly across the marble as she started to make her way toward some food.

“Dang it,” a voice suddenly cursed from behind her. “Wait Lincoln.”

The rapid thump of heavy boots sounded from behind her as she continued her way down the grand staircase in search of food.

“Hey,” the voice called. “Wait. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To find some food,” Clarke said matter of factly as a shorter, brunette girl caught up with her.

“I’m not allowed to let you leave your room,” the girl insisted, moving to stand in front of Clarke.

Clarke glared at her. She wasn’t in the mood.

“Octavia,” a man spoke from behind her. Clarke turned to see a tall, bald man with dark skin walking toward them. “Let the girl eat, Octavia,” the man continued. “We can go to the kitchen with her and when she’s done, we’ll bring her right back.”

Clarke shot the man a grateful look as Octavia stood, deliberating. The man smiled at her and winked as if he already knew Octavia’s answer.

“Fine,” she conceded only a few second later. “But we go, we eat, and then we leave.”

She stared at Clarke and the man until they nodded in affirmation. She then proceeded to turn on her heel and start to lead them down the hall toward what Clarke hoped was the kitchen.

“I’m Lincoln,” the man greeted, coming to walk right beside her.

“Clarke,” she returned.

“I know,” Lincoln said. He smiled and his eyes glinted as if he knew something she didn’t. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Her response was cut off as they walked into the kitchen.

“What’s up blondie?” Raven greeted with a grin from where she was sitting at a long table in the middle of the kitchen. Anya and a man with shaggy black hair sat with her, steaming bowls of soup in front of them. “Glad that you could join us. I see you’ve already met Octavia and Lincoln.”

Clarke went to sit next to them as Raven beckoned her over. As soon as she sat down, a young boy of about fifteen set a bowl of soup in front of her.

“And this is Aden,” Raven introduced.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling softly at him.

Aden stared at her slack jawed for a few moments before Raven cleared her throat with a smirk. He startled slightly before clearing his throat and speaking.

“Wow,” he said. “Heda was right. You are really beautiful.”

The whole table immediately burst into laughter. Aden and Clarke’s faces reddened slightly.

“Heda?” Clarke asked, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

“Our word for commander,” Lincoln supplied.

Clarke nodded slightly in understanding even though she was still confused about what he meant by 'their' word. She shrugged it aside for another time before turning to tuck into her bowl of soup. Her stomach grumbled loudly as she inhaled the delicious smelling steam rising from the bowl. She was too hungry to focus on anything else.

“Someone’s hungry,” the man with black hair teased as she tore into the bowl with abandon.

Clarke quickly swallowed, not bothering to savor the bite. “I haven’t eaten since this morning before I went to town,” she confessed.

“Oh! The town,” Raven exclaimed, leaning toward Clarke excitedly. “I haven’t been there in ages. What’s it like?”

“Probably the same as it was the last time you visited,” Clarke replied with a shrug. “Same people doing the same things. Jaha is still mayor. Kane still runs the paint shop. Diana is still trying to take over. Jasper now runs the pub though. And Monty has taken over the bakery. Oh. And Finn is still annoying.”

“I knew a Finn from town,” Raven said brightly. “I wonder if it’s the same one.”

“It’s been ninety-seven years, Raven,” the man with shaggy black hair said. “I’m sure it’s not the same Finn.”

It took a second for the man’s words to sink in before many things happened at once. Clarke spat her spoonful of soup all over poor Aden who leapt back in shock, falling out of his chair in the process. Half of the table shouted “Bellamy!” in reprimand and Anya reached across the table and smacked Bellamy on the head.

“'Ninety-seven years'?” Clarke choked, staring at Bellamy and Raven in disbelief.

“Nice going, genius,” Octavia said, turning back to her bowl of soup with a shake of her head.

“What do you mean ‘ninety-seven years’?” Clarke pressed.

Everybody at the table looked down at their bowls sheepishly, not meeting Clarke’s gaze.

“I think that’s a question for the Commander to answer,” Anya finally said. Clarke internally scoffed as she tried to imagine the Commander answering a question like that for her. She knew it wasn’t going to happen. She’d have to find out for herself. “In the meantime,” Anya said, shoving her bowl away and standing up from the table. “We should get you back to your room. Raven.” Raven and Octavia immediately stood up. “Not you, Octavia. You can come guard her room when you’re finished.”

Octavia immediately sat back down to finish her bowl of soup. Raven walked around the table and met them at the door.

“Good night, Clarke,” Lincoln said as they walked out the door.

“Good night, Lincoln,” she said back with a smile.

“Come on,” Anya ordered. “Keep up and don’t wander off.”

Clarke nodded slightly as Anya turned back slightly to make sure she had heard before turning forward again to start talking to Raven. Clarke scanned the hall around her and started to think of how she could slip away to find answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just wanted to say thank you for all the comments and kudos. They really make my day. I know I don't reply, but I see every one and they bring a smile to my face so thank you. I hope you all have a good day.


	7. The West Wing

Clarke waited until Anya and Raven were engrossed in their bickering before slipping off. She quickly made her way to the West Wing, hoping to find answers there.

Clarke watched as the hall decorations became more and more destroyed as she walked through the West Wing until she reached a large doorway covered in nothing but a large tapestry. She stopped in front of it and studied it.

Most of the tapestry was covered in what was obviously a battlefield. Smoke rose from numerous fires, partly obscuring the sight of hundreds and hundreds of bodies coating the field in a thick layer of death and blood.

The bottom of the tapestry showed the Commander surrounded by a small group of people. Clarke recognized some of them as the people she had met around the castle. Others, she didn’t recognize. All of them were coated in soot and blood from the battle, keeping a wary distance from the Commander as they hung their heads in defeat.

They and the Commander stood at a position of victory, but they looked like they were experiencing anything but. Especially the Commander.

The Commander knelt on the ground, howling up at the sky in obvious pain and despair. Her fists were clenched so tightly around the hilt of her sword and a small green pendant, Clarke could tell her knuckles were white underneath the fur on her paws. Her armor strained as her muscles clenched and flexed as she arched her back and howled.

Clarke followed the direction of the Commander’s howl and saw a young woman at the top of the tapestry. The woman’s eyes were closed as if in slumber. Her dark brown hair floated around her face as if she was underwater and her white gown did the same. Clarke could tell the woman was of great importance.

Clarke frowned as she finished her inspection of the tapestry. It had raised as many questions as it had answered.

She immediately pushed past the tapestry, looking for more answers.

The tapestry moved to reveal a large room in utter shambles. All the furniture was scattered around the room in pieces as if someone had torn them apart with their bare hands and tossed them in a rage. Deep claw marks and sword gouges covered any piece of furniture large enough to hold them. The curtains that led out to the balcony hung in tatters, rustling in the breeze that came in through the shattered doors. The many many candles that littered the room guttered in the same breeze. Clarke immediately thought of the fire hazard that so many candles in one room presented.

After a few moments, Clarke’s gaze alighted on the only piece of furniture that was still left semi intact. She carefully made her way through the wreckage to the torn painting hanging on the wall. When she reached it, she yanked the dagger that still hung impaled in the canvas out of it.

Clarke gasped when she caught sight of the portrait of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. The woman’s long dark hair was pulled to the side and cascaded down her shoulder in gentle waves. Her jaw was clenched slightly, accentuating the strong line of it, as the woman tried to conceal the small smile that adorned her face. Her startling green eyes shone with kindness and mirth as she looked out of the painting, seeming to share a private joke with Clarke as she studied the woman’s features.

“What is the meaning of this?” a deep voice growled from behind her.

Clarke spun around, swallowing a small lump of fear as she met the startling green eyes that had just shown at her with warmth from the painting, but now flared with anger from the very real Commander standing in front of her.

Clarke quickly steeled herself as she replied, “I’m looking for answers.”

“You won’t find any here,” the Commander barked, reaching behind Clarke and burying another dagger into the canvas.

“Who’s this woman?” Clarke asked, already knowing the answer. She motioned behind her slightly at the painting behind her.

The Commander growled low in her throat and turned away from Clarke abruptly and walked across the room.

“Who’s the woman in the tapestry?” Clarke pressed, stepping toward the Commander.

Her reply was so quiet, Clarke barely heard her. “Get out.”

“Not until I get answers,” Clarke replied. She planted her feet and stood her ground.

“Get out,” the Commander ordered again.

“What about the people on the battlefield?” Clarke asked, switching tactics.

Fear immediately gripped her as the Commander spun around, towering over her with anger and pain flashing in her eyes.

“GET OUT!” the Commander bellowed.

Clarke didn’t need to be told twice that time as she spun around and fled. The remnants of a chair exploded against the wall to the right of her as she hastily pushed past the tapestry.

Lincoln and Raven’s voices accosted her the second she ran out of the West Wing.

“Clarke? What happened?” Raven demanded.

“Are you okay?” Lincoln asked.

“I need to get out of here,” Clarke answered breathlessly.

She ignored their protests and raced past them to the front doors of the castle. She flew across the grounds and toward the stables. Without bothering to saddle a horse, she hopped on one and tore out of the stables, nearly running over an imposing black woman she had never seen before.

She spurred the horse on as they burst through the gates of the castle and made their way into the forest.

Tears poured down Clarke’s face as she tore through the woods. She couldn’t stay in the castle with a sad and rage filled commander as her jailer. She couldn’t stay when her mother needed her. She couldn’t stay and keep her sanity.

She was quickly returned to the present as the horse she was riding suddenly reared back in surprise, whinnying loudly. She tried to grab at the horse’s mane to no avail as she slid off his back and onto the snow covered ground.

She gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. As quickly as she could, she propped herself up on her elbows to take in her surroundings. What she saw made her gasp again. Seven bandits stood around her armed to the teeth.

“Now what do we have here?” the tall, burly leader asked, stepping forward with a feral grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you have a good Christmas/Holidays.


	8. Azgeda

“Why the hell was she in my room?” the Commander demanded, bursting out of the West Wing and advancing on Anya, Raven, and Lincoln. Anya and Raven both began talking at once.

“She was hungry.”

“So she came down and we gave her some soup.”

“And Raven asked about town.”

“And she mentioned a guy named Finn.”

“So Bellamy ended up letting slip about ninety-seven years.”

“And she was obviously curious.”

“But I told her not to wander off.”

“Like that’s ever stopped anyone before.”

“Enough,” the Commander interrupted, stopping the argument before it could begin. She could feel a headache start to pound at her temples. She quickly turned to Lincoln, knowing he would be more calm. “Lincoln?”

“I knew Clarke would be curious after we let slip that thing about us being alive for ninety-seven years,” Lincoln replied. “So after she left with Anya and Raven, I got up and followed. But by the time I got to them, Clarke had already slipped away. We were just going to check the West Wing when we heard your shouting and saw Clarke come barrelling past us not a moment later.”

“Where is she now?” the Commander asked, guilt and remorse coiling in her stomach as the look of pure terror on Clarke’s face before she had fled flashed through her mind once more.

Those feelings quickly changed to concern as Anya and Raven looked anywhere but her. She turned toward Lincoln again, looking for an answer.

“Where is she?” she asked lowly, dreading the coming answer.

Lincoln’s expression immediately tightened as if bracing himself for impact.

“In the woods, Commander,” Lincoln replied. “She took Trikova and fled.”

Panic gripped her and before she could fully form the thought, she was dashing out of the castle and after Clarke with inhuman speed. The Commander strained all of her senses as she followed the hoof prints in the snow and tried to find Clarke.

Her heart rate sped up with something more than just physical exertion as she thought about how she was currently in Azgeda hunting grounds.

Only a split second later, a loud whiny reached her ears. She put on a burst of speed and reached the spot in record time.

Her gut clenched and she breathed a sigh of relief as she caught sight of Clarke unharmed except from her fall and pressed up against a tree, but surrounded by seven Azgeda bandits.

A growl rose in her throat as she burst onto the scene, leaping over the nearest Azgeda and landing in front of Clarke in a crouch, her claws extended. All but the leader of the group took a slight step back as the Commander snapped at the nearest one and pinned them under her fierce glare.

“Commander,” the leader greeted. “So nice of you to join us. It’s nice to see you out of the confines of your prison. How are things? How’s Raven?”

The Commander bristled at the mention of Raven. “Very well considering you shot her,” she bit out. “She looking forward to returning the favor.”

“It’s a date,” the man responded with an evil grin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re in my way.”

“No,” the Commander snarled.

The man raised his eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?” he asked. “Now that’s not fair. Did you not like the pet we gave you the other day? If you want this one so bad, how about we propose a trade?”

“You can’t have either of them,” the Commander snapped.

The man shook his head condescendingly, smiling slightly. “You should know by now, Commander. We always take what we want.”

The next second, the clearing erupted into chaos. Five of the seven Azgeda surged forward, swords drawn, as a crossbow twanged off to her right. Pain flared through her right arm a split second later as a crossbow bolt appeared in her arm. Vague regret about taking off most of her armor that night ran through her before being replaced by white hot anger and pain.

She immediately roared and swiped at the offending Azgeda. His crossbow exploded into a hundred pieces as he went flying, hitting a tree and falling to the ground in a heap, not moving.

Before the Commander could do anything else, the other Azgeda fell upon her.

Steel bit into her flesh as she swiped at anything that came close, keeping herself between the Azgeda and Clarke. She snarled and bit and clawed, dropping two more Azgeda before a dagger sailed past her face from behind and buried itself into one of the Azgeda’s shoulder. Without thinking, she yanked the dagger out of the man’s shoulder and added it to the repertoire of attacks she was using to fight.

After a few moments, another dagger flew past her face, burying itself in the arm of the leader of the bandits, making him drop his sword. Suddenly, the fight was over as quickly as it had started. The Azgeda quickly melted into the woods, disappearing from sight and leaving their fallen comrades behind.

The Commander stood and watched them leave for a few moments, her chest heaving from exertion, before turning to find Clarke crouched beside one of the fallen Azgeda, another dagger in her hand ready to throw.

The Commander ignored the pain and blood coursing through her and flowing out of her and focused on Clarke. Her gaze quickly scanned the blonde, looking for any signs of injury. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when she found none.

“Good mark,” the Commander acknowledged after a few moments of them staring at each other.

Clarke startled slightly, as if not expecting the Commander to talk. She quickly looked down at the dagger and then back up at the Commander. “I’m surprised if I’m being perfectly honest,” she replied. “They’re balanced much differently than throwing knives.”

The Commander nodded slightly, storing the information away for later. She opened her mouth to say something.

Before she could make a sound, her legs gave out. Clarke jumped up and darted over to where the Commander kneeled in the snow.

“We need to get you back to the castle,” Clarke said, worry lacing her tone. “Can you walk?”

The Commander shook her head. “Trikova,” she said quietly.

The horse immediately appeared as if he had been waiting to be summoned. The Commander made a mental note to have Aden work more with the horse to get him more battle ready as Clarke helped her up on his back. She slumped slightly as Clarke used a tree to clamber up in front of her.

The horse immediately started forward, carrying them back to the castle. A small jolt of pain shot through her with each step Trikova took. She focused on that and tried to ignore the feeling of Clarke pressed up against her and how it was the most comfortable she had felt in ninety-seven years.


	9. Lexa

“This is going to hurt,” Clarke warned, studying the crossbow bolt that was still stuck in the Commander’s forearm. She ignored everybody hovering around them worryingly and instead focused on the woman sitting in front of her. The fire glinted off her blood matted fur and seemed to reflect in her eyes, making the green look like it was on fire.

The Commander gritted her teeth and looked Clarke straight in the eye. “Do it,” she spat.

Clarke studied her for one more second before reaching forward, pushing the bolt the rest of the way through her arm, breaking the shaft in two, and then pulling the front half of the bolt out in one clean motion. The Commander immediately howled in pain. Clarke could see Aden scrunching his eyes shut tight and the black woman, who she had learned was named Indra, step forward slightly with her hand on her sword, a murderous look on her face.

“That hurt,” the Commander complained.

Clarke raised her eyebrow in disbelief at the small moment of pettiness.

“I told you it would,” she said sharply, turning to pick up the wet cloth that was sitting next to her in a bucket of water.

“Leave us,” the Commander ordered to the room at large.

Clarke continued to clean the wound as everybody shuffled out. She could feel Indra’s glare on the back of her neck as she walked out.

She continued to clean the wound after everybody had left, leaving her and the Commander sitting in front of the fire. She could feel the Commander staring at her as she finished cleaning and turned to grab the bandage Lincoln had brought for her.

“I told you not to go to the West Wing,” the Commander broke the silence as Clarke started to bandage her arm. Her voice sounded curious and weary, as if she wasn’t sure why Clarke hadn’t listened to her.

“And I told you to let me go with my mother,” Clarke retorted, finishing up the bandage and rocking back on her heels to look up at the Commander. She held the Commander’s gaze challengingly.

“Why were you up in the West Wing?” the Commander asked, not backing down.

“I was looking for answers.”

“Did you find any?”

“No,” Clarke admitted, running a hand through her hair and sighing in frustration. “I just got more questions.”

Clarke could feel the Commander’s gaze on her as silence fell between them. Clarke continued to stare at the carpet as the silence wore on.

“What would you like to know?” the Commander finally asked.

Clarke nearly got whiplash from looking up at the Commander so fast, shock written all over her face. Whatever she had it expected, it wasn’t that.

“Who was the woman in white?” she asked almost immediately.

“Her name was Costia,” the Commander answered quietly after a moment's hesitation. “She was special to me.”

“What happened to her?” Clarke whispered.

The Commander took a deep breath before replying in a flat, emotionless voice. “Because she was mine. Azgeda took her and tortured her, trying to find out my secrets. Three hundred of my warriors died trying to get her back only to have her die in my arms.” Clarke watched as many different emotions fought for dominance behind the Commander’s indifferent facade. “Love is weakness.”

Clarke immediately shook her head, frowning. “Love is strength.”

The Commander sat back slightly in surprise as memories began to run through Clarke’s head. Of her father’s smile and laugh. Of him throwing her up on his shoulders when she was little. Of her mother helping her after she had fallen and scraped herself up really badly. Of a paintbrush in her hand. Of a painting of her family she had finished days before her father had died.

Tears pricked the back of her eyes as she stood. “Love is strength,” she reiterated, her voice thick with emotion. She quickly cleared her throat and motioned toward the Commander’s many injuries. “You should get those cleaned up. I need to check your arm tomorrow. I’ll check the rest of your injuries then too. Good night, Commander.”

Without waiting for a response, Clarke turned and made her way toward the door. She took a deep breath, steadying herself and keeping her tears from falling, as she reached for the door handle.

The Commander’s voice suddenly interrupted her exit.

“Lexa,” the Commander said quietly, her voice nevertheless reaching Clarke’s ears. “My name is Lexa.”

Clarke stilled at the sound of the Commander’s name, her hand still on the handle of the door. The name suited her well. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.

“Lexa,” Clarke breathed, testing it out. The name rolled off her tongue beautifully. She turned slightly to find Lexa watching her intently. “Good night, Lexa.”

A small smile graced Lexa’s features. “Good night, Clarke.”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile back before she turned and walked out to go to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not posting yesterday. I got completely blindsided by some really bad pain that had me bedridden all day yesterday and away from my computer. So, to make up for it, I will be posting the next chapter either tonight or tomorrow morning. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the next one.


	10. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the next chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it.

“I’ve got to do something nice for her,” Lexa declared, pacing in front of the fireplace on all fours. “And if I hear the word ‘firework’ come out of your mouth, Raven,” Lexa warned, not looking up from her pacing, “I will put you on weapon’s duty with Indra for the next seven years. No explosives.”

Lexa turned to pace the other way, catching Raven’s slight pout and shrug.

“Hey. It worked for me,” she defended nonchalantly.

Anya immediately scoffed. “That’s what you think.”

Raven shot her a look of disbelief. “I thought you loved my fireworks,” she accused.

“Sometimes,” Anya agreed with a shrug. “When you aren’t setting fire to the castle roof.”

“That was one time,” Raven grumbled, turning back around and slumping down in her seat. Anya smirked as Raven crossed her arms and pouted like a child.

“You two are no help,” Lexa said exasperatedly, turning the other direction. “I need something better than fireworks.”

Lexa expertly ignored the indignant gasp that came from Raven as she continued to pace, wracking her brain for what to do. She suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of being out of practice. She hadn’t done anything like it in over ninety-seven years.

“Well,” Lincoln spoke up. “What does she like?”

Lexa froze and turned toward Lincoln, panic rising in her throat.

“I don’t know,” Lexa admitted. “I’ve only known her for two days.”

Everybody in the room fell silent as Lexa went back to pacing. She started to pace faster as the silence wore on, practically wearing a line in the carpet in her agitation. Her mind raced to find something Clarke liked.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence of the room.

“Art.”

Lexa spun toward the voice, her gaze zeroing in on Octavia where she was sitting next to Lincoln.

“What?” Lexa asked stupidly.

“Clarke likes art,” Octavia reiterated, sitting up slightly in her seat. “There was a paint brush sticking out of her bag when I went to get her for dinner and her hands had charcoal all over them when we went down for dinner just like Lincoln does when he’s done sketching.”

Lexa remained frozen for a second before turning to pace again. Her mind raced a mile a minute as a plan started to form in her mind. She smiled to herself as her plan finalized in her head.

“How are we doing on supplies in the art room?” Lexa asked at large, knowing Lincoln was going to answer.

“Good,” he replied. “But we could always use more colored charcoal.”

Lexa nodded slightly before issuing the next order. “Take Aden and get some more colored charcoal and whatever else you deem necessary. I want you to be back before breakfast tomorrow.”

Lincoln nodded once before standing up and making his way to the door. Lexa stopped her pacing and stood up from her crouch, turning toward Lincoln.

“Lincoln,” she called before he could walk out. He stopped with his hand on the door handle and turned back to look at her expectantly. “Can you grab me a few more candles while you’re out?”

She ignored the large eyeroll and snorts from Anya and Raven in the corner and kept her gaze on Lincoln. He easily masked his amusement and nodded before turning and leaving the room.

She took a deep breath and smiled to herself before putting on her usual stoic mask and turning toward Raven, Anya, and Octavia to put the finishing touches on her plan.

\-----

Lexa slowly climbed the grand staircase and made her way toward Clarke’s bedroom. She quickly ran through the checklist in her head, hoping everything went smoothly.

She stopped in front of Clarke’s door and stared at it for a second. She nervously wiped her sweaty paws on her plain black shirt, wishing for her armor. Wishing for some form of control and protection.

Her ears perked up slightly as the quiet sounds of rustling on the other side of the door signaled that Clarke was awake. Lexa stood up slightly, rising to her full seven foot height. She took a deep, steadying breath before reaching forward to knock.

Before her fist could come in contact with the wood of the door, it swung open. Lexa looked down, startled, to see Clarke looking up at her in surprise. Lexa frowned internally as a guarded expression fell over Clarke’s features. Lexa quickly lowered her hand to her side.

“Can I help you?” Clarke asked guardedly.

Lexa gulped slightly, her thoughts flashing to the many battles she had fought in and wondering why talking to Clarke felt so much harder than fighting in all of them.

“I was wondering if you would like to join us for breakfast,” Lexa proposed, nervously clutching her paws together behind her back.

“Us?” Clarke asked.

“Me and my warriors,” Lexa clarified. Her mind quickly flashed to Indra and Gustus’s reaction. She frowned. “Bar a few,” she added.

Clarke nodded her understanding, her guarded expression falling slightly. “I’d love to.”

Lexa gave a small smile before turning and starting to walk toward the dining room. Clarke quickly fell into step beside her.

Lexa quickly wracked her brain for something to talk about as the silence grew between them. Her thoughts quickly fell on a satisfactory topic of conversation.

“How did you sleep?” Lexa asked as they started to make their way down the grand staircase. She immediately cringed at how lame the question sounded.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clarke shoot her a slightly startled look before masking her emotions and turning back to look forward.

“Good,” Clarke replied.

Lexa gave a small nod as silence settled between them again. She quickly searched around for another thing to talk about, coming up empty.

Before the silence could grow too long, she was saved as Aden met them at the bottom of the stairs.

“Good morning, Heda. Good morning, Clarke,” Aden greeted.

Lexa nodded in greeting, more occupied with watching Clarke as the blonde softened and smiled.

“Good morning, Aden,” Clarke greeted. “How are you?”

“Good. You?” Aden asked.

“I’m good,” Clarke answered with a smile.

“Hey Heda?” Aden asked, dragging Lexa into the conversation. Lexa turned to look at him expectantly as they made their way down the hall. “What’s for breakfast?

“If you wait five seconds, you’ll see for yourself,” Lexa answered.

“Why wait five seconds when I can know now?” Aden argued with a grin.

Lexa grinned back as she replied. “Porridge and fruit and if Raven didn’t burn it and Bellamy hasn’t eaten it all, bacon.”

Aden whooped, jumping slightly, before racing ahead. Lexa smiled, watching him leave. He may have been over ninety-seven years old, but most of the time he still acted like the young fourteen year old boy he had once been.

As they reached the dining room, Lexa glanced over to find Clarke watching her with a look of confusion. Before she could make anything of it, they walked inside and Clarke turned to greet the people in the room.

Lexa quickly darted forward and pulled out the only empty chair at the table for Clarke.

“Thanks,” Clarke said, as Lexa helped her scoot in.

Lexa nodded in reply even though Clarke couldn’t see her and looked up to find Raven grinning and winking at her from across the table. Lexa glared at her over Clarke’s head as she made her way to her own seat at the head of the table. She knew what she was doing. She was rusty, not incompetent.

“Let’s eat,” Lexa announced as she sat down in her chair.

Aden, Bellamy, and Raven cheered and dove into their food like a pack of wild animals. Lexa chuckled at the usual eye roll Anya sent their way before leaning over to tuck into her own bowl of porridge.

After only a few bites, the loud clearing of a throat interrupted her from her breakfast.

Lexa immediately sat up and glared at Anya, wiping her face off on a cloth. Anya surreptitiously glanced across the table in answer to Lexa’s silent question. Lexa’s annoyance quickly changed to embarrassment as she followed Anya’s line of sight and found Clarke looking at her in surprise. Lexa silently thanked Costia for all of the fur that covered her face as she felt an embarrassed flush creep up her cheeks.

She looked down at her bowl and the numerous flecks of porridge surrounding it. She hadn’t had to worry about her eating habits in ninety-seven years. Her gaze quickly darted down to her paws before dancing around her place setting to see if there was a spoon nearby even though she knew she couldn’t use it properly. The least she could do was try.

After only a few moments of looking, a spoon was thrust into her paw. Lexa shot Anya a grateful look before awkwardly gripping the utensil as best she could and looking down at her porridge trepidatiously. She tightened her grip on the spoon slightly and swallowed thickly.

A feeling of conviction settled in her gut as she lifted the spoon. She slowly dipped it into and scooped up some of her porridge. Before she could lift it very far, half of the spoonful promptly fell back into her bowl.

Lexa glared at her spoon and bowl, frustration growing. She briefly considered throwing her spoon out the window.

Before she could act on the impulse, somebody else softly cleared their throat. Lexa’s head snapped up to look at Clarke.

Without a word, Clarke set her spoon down and lifted her bowl up to drink her porridge. Lexa smiled before copying the blonde’s actions. She wordlessly raised her bowl in thanks before taking a swallow herself. Clarke immediately sent her her own small smile.

Lexa beamed as they continued to eat their breakfast. Maybe there was hope after all.

\-----

“I need to take a look at those wounds,” Clarke announced, setting her finished bowl of porridge back on the table.

“Right now?” Lexa asked, startled.

Clarke just nodded in response as she pushed her chair back and stood up. Lexa watched her warily as she came to stand by her. That hadn’t been part of the plan.

Lexa quickly glanced at Anya for help as Clarke knelt down next to her. Anya just smirked before standing up and starting to usher everybody out that was still eating. Lexa looked at her imploringly as she continued to push Aden out the door as he grabbed for the remaining pieces of bacon.

“I’ll send Lincoln along with some fresh bandages,” Anya told Clarke as she started to make her own way out.

“Thank you, Anya,” Clarke replied, not looking up from unwrapping Lexa’s wounds.

Lexa shot Anya a glare as she walked out, only getting a wink in return before the door snapped shut behind the brunette.

Lexa continued to glare at the door for a few more moments before turning toward Clarke, nerves settling back into her stomach. She again wondered why this was harder than fighting off hundreds of warriors in battle.

“So,” Lexa said, trying to break the silence. She cleared her throat slightly before continuing. “What’s the prognosis?”

“You’ll live,” Clarke answered, chuckling slightly. Her smile turned to a frown as she inspected the rest of her wounds. “You’re actually healing surprisingly well.”

Lexa just shrugged in reply. She had always been a fast healer. The curse had helped a bit as well. Costia really didn’t want her to die before she learned her lesson.

Before Lexa could come up with a verbal reply, a soft knock sounded through the room. Lexa looked up as Clarke continued to inspect her wounds.

“Enter,” she called.

The door opened as Lincoln walked in carrying a bowl of water and some clean bandages.

“Anya sent me with these,” Lincoln announced, lifting the supplies up slightly as he stepped farther into the room.

“Thank you, Lincoln,” Clarke said, getting up and meeting him halfway. She carefully took the bowl of water from him, ignoring his protests, before they made their way back over to where Lexa was sitting.

“You’re welcome, Clarke,” Lincoln finally replied as he set the bandages on the table in front of Lexa.

Clarke nodded slightly in acknowledgement as she knelt back down again and began to clean Lexa’s wounds. Lexa caught Lincoln’s eyes over Clarke’s head, asking him a silent question. He gave her a nearly nonexistent nod in response. She gave a sharp nod of satisfaction before turning toward Clarke right as the blonde held out her hand expectantly.

Lexa stared at it for a second in confusion. Lincoln chuckled before handing some of the bandages over to Clarke. Lexa sent him a quick glare as Clarke began to rewrap her injuries. She would have figured it out eventually.

“Anyway,” Lincoln said, winking at Lexa as he began to back toward the door. She just rolled her eyes in response. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you at sparring, Commander.”

“Sparring?” Clarke suddenly piped up.

Lincoln and Lexa turned to look at her as she finished up wrapping Lexa’s wounds and turned toward Lincoln.

“We spar everyday,” Lexa explained. “Keeps us on our toes.”

“Not today you’re not,” Clarke ordered, turning to look at Lexa. “Not with those injuries.”

Lexa looked at her in disbelief for a second. Her eyes quickly flicked up to Lincoln, searching for the joke. Lincoln just shook his head, taking a slight step back and raising his hands in a gesture that clearly said to keep him out of it. Lexa’s gaze quickly flicked back to Clarke, the blonde’s intense blue gaze capturing her fiery green one.

“I’ve sparred with worse injuries, Clarke,” Lexa assured. “I haven’t missed a day of sparring in over ninety-seven years.”

“Then I don’t think one day is going to kill you,” Clarke argued, raising her eyebrow as if daring Lexa to argue with her.

Lexa held Clarke’s gaze, silently battling for dominance and her ability to spar.

Their silent battle of wills was suddenly broken by the light snap of Lincoln closing the door behind him. Lexa watched the door for a second before turning to find Clarke still steadily looking at her.

Lexa tried to continue their battle of wills before sighing in defeat a few moments later. Clarke’s face immediately split into a victorious grin, effectively distracting Lexa. She mildly wondered how she could get Clarke to smile like that again before shaking herself out of that train of thought.

“Can we at least watch?” Lexa asked, trying to keep a pleading tone out of her voice and her face stoic. She couldn’t tell how well she succeeded.

“As long as you don’t exert yourself,” Clarke allowed.

“Good,” Lexa said, schooling her features and rising gracefully from her seat. “In the meantime, I have something to show you.”

Lexa turned toward Clarke and looked at her expectantly. Lexa waited with bated breath as Clarke sat and seemed to study her for a few moments.

“Okay,” Clarke said, getting up and brushing herself off. Lexa smiled slightly before turning and starting to lead the way out of the room and toward their intended destination. Clarke quickly fell into step beside her. “Where are we going?” Clarke asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Lexa answered, a little bit of her excitement shining through. Out of the corner of her eye, Lexa caught Clarke giving her a strange look. Lexa quelled her excitement slightly and hoped against hope that that look didn’t mean her plan was going to fail.

Within moments, they reached the room Lexa was aiming for. Before they walked in, Lexa stepped forward and spun around in front of the closed double doors so that her back was to them and she was facing Clarke. The blonde immediately came to an abrupt halt, looking up at Lexa warily.

Lexa quickly swallowed down her nerves and gripped the door handles tightly behind her back. The time for hope was over, it had to work.

“Okay. Close your eyes,” Lea demanded softly.

Clarke raised an eyebrow slightly in response. “Why?” she countered.

“I did say it was a surprise, didn’t I?” Lexa teased with a smirk.

Clarke sent her a small smirk back before closing her eyes. Lexa paused for a moment before waving her paw in front of Clarke’s face to make sure her eyes were closed. Clarke didn’t flinch.

Satisfied, Lexa reached behind her again and swung open the doors. She softly took Clarke’s hands, giving her all the time to pull back if she wanted to and slowly led her into the room. Lexa’s heart warmed as Clarke gripped her paws a tiny bit tighter as they made their way deeper into the room.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Clarke asked as they stopped in the center of the room.

“‘Not quite yet,” Lexa replied. She slowly let go of Clarke’s hands before rushing over to the thick curtains that covered the windows. She quickly whisked them back, flooding the room with sunlight.

“Okay,” she said, turning to look at Clarke. “You can open them.”

Lexa watched as Clarke slowly blinked her eyes open, slowly adjusting to the light cascading in from the windows. Lexa grinned as Clarke’s face lit up as she took in the room before them.

Lexa watched Clarke as Clarke’s gaze ran over the tons of art supplies neatly placed around the room. Blank canvases of all sizes leaned against one of the walls across the room from a workbench covered in countless amounts of pencils, paintbrushes, and charcoals. Three or four easels leaned up against the wall near the canvases with a stool nearby that. Lexa made a mental note to thank Lincoln and Aden for a job well done as she took a quick scan of the room and found nothing lacking, before snapping back to look at Clarke. Anything an artist would need was in the studio and in it’s rightful place.

“Lexa. It’s-it’s…” Clarke breathed, rotating on the spot and drinking everything in.

“It’s all yours,” Lexa interrupted.

Clarke immediately stopped spinning and turned to look at her incredulously. “Mine?”

Lexa nodded, smiling. “All yours. It’s just down the hall from your bedroom and you can come here whenever you like.”

Clarke stared at her in surprise for a few seconds before launching herself into Lexa’s arms. Lexa immediately tensed at the sudden contact.

“Thank you, Lexa,” Clarke said, her voice slightly muffled by Lexa’s shirt.

Lexa quickly started to relax into the hug, wrapping her arms around Clarke and leaning her head down to bury her nose in Clarke’s hair.

“You’re welcome, Clarke,” she murmured.

They stood like that for a few moments, Lexa’s heart racing. A slight noise by the door suddenly caught Lexa’s attention. She looked up and rolled her eyes at the sight that greeted her. Raven and Aden stood in the doorway. Aden silently jumped for joy, excitement etched into all of his features. Raven winked at her and shot her a thumbs up.

Lexa shook her head slightly before burying her face back into Clarke’s hair and enjoying the warmth of her hug.


	11. Deals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one's a tad bit shorter than the others, but kinda starts the set up for future things so I hope you guys enjoy it.

“I don’t understand it, Murphy,” Finn complained, toying with his food. “Why won’t she agree to marry me? Is it something I’ve done or said? Am I just not good enough?”

Murphy shook his head. “No boss,” he replied, his voice muffled by his mouth full of food. “You’re great. Any girl in this village would be lucky to have you as their husband.”

“Then why won’t Clarke marry me?” Finn roared, slamming his fist on the table and causing their meal to clatter to the floor.

Murphy immediately looked up at Finn indignantly. “I don’t know boss,” he growled. Finn shot him a deadly glare. Murphy glared back for a second before visibly reeling in his temper and continuing. “Maybe there’s something wrong with her.”

Finn launched himself across the table and grabbed Murphy by the collar, dragging him across the table so they were face to face.

“Don’t you ever say that again,” he spat. He felt a flash of triumph as Murphy flinched slightly. “I deserve the best and Clarke is the best. Now clean up this mess.”

Finn quickly released Murphy’s collar, shoving him back into his chair in the process. He expertly ignored the other man’s irritated grumbling and indignant glare as he started to plot his next proposal. A proposal Clarke couldn’t say no to.

Before he could get very far along in his thought process, the door to the small room he was in burst open to reveal Marcus Kane standing in the doorway.

“What do you want?” Finn sneered. He never did like the man, especially since he owned the paint shop and helped fuel Clarke’s strangeness.

“The Griffin residence,” Kane panted. “It’s under attack.”

Finn stared at the bearded man in front of him for a second, waiting for the words to sink in. The second they did, Finn leapt out of his seat and grabbed his rifle from where it was leaning up against the wall.

“Don’t just stand there,” he ordered, shouldering past Kane and bursting into the pub proper.

He quickly waved off Jasper’s questioning look before dashing out of the pub and toward the Griffin cottage. He vaguely hoped Murphy and Kane were right behind him as he came into view of the house. He put on a new burst of speed as he saw the front of the house crawling with bandits.

Within moments, he reached the back door and shoved his way into the house. The second he stepped over the threshold, a knife suddenly appeared in the door frame next to his head.

“Mrs. Griffin,” Finn called.

“Finn!” Mrs. Griffin exclaimed, appearing from the doorway she had been hiding in. “Thank God!”

“Where’s Clarke?” Finn demanded, grabbing Mrs. Griffin’s arm as she stumbled forward. The last thing he wanted was for Clarke to be hurt before she could agree to his marriage proposal.

Mrs. Griffin shook her head. “She’s not here. She’s-”

Before she could finish, Murphy and Kane both burst into the house through the back door. Finn and Mrs. Griffin quickly turned to look at them.

“They’re coming around the back!” Murphy shouted right before all hell broke loose.

Both doors into the house burst open as bandits started to pour in. Finn immediately raised his gun and aimed it at the first bandit through the door. He got one shot off before another bandit was on top of him. He quickly raised his gun to deflect the bandit’s sword, immediately mourning the wood stock of his rifle as the sword sunk into it.

He quickly yanked his rifle back toward him, causing the bandit on the other side of the sword to stumble forward, right into Finn’s waiting foot. The bandit fell over, letting go of his sword in the process. Without a second’s hesitation, Finn yanked the sword out of his rifle and trained it right at the bandit’s head.

Before he could pull the trigger, a loud, demanding voice ripped through the chaos.

“STOP!”

Everybody froze. Finn quickly turned his head to find the source of the voice. His gaze immediately fell on a tall, burly man towering over Mrs. Griffin, who was laying on the floor.

The bandit slowly crouched down in front of Mrs. Griffin and studied her for a few moments. He carefully reached out and ran a strand of her hair through his fingers before speaking again.

“The Commander threw you back,” the bandit said, amusement and curiosity coloring his tone.

Mrs. Griffin’s expression immediately turned to one of defiance. “She took my daughter instead.”

“Wait,” Finn spoke up, confusion coursing through him. He didn’t like the feeling. He was used to being in control and in charge. “Who took Clarke?”

The bandit and everybody else turned to look at him. The bandit studied him for a second before standing up in one fluid motion and taking a step toward him. Finn’s grip on his gun tightened slightly, but he stood his ground as the bandit got even closer.

“The constant thorn in my side that is the Commander,” the bandit finally replied.

Finn’s mind immediately began to race with possibilities at the answer. A victorious grin split his face as a plan started to solidify in his mind. “Perhaps we can help each other,” he proposed.

The bandit looked at him curiously for a second before replying. “I’m listening.”


	12. Dinner and Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff with some plot at the end. I hope you guys enjoy it.

Clarke sat in front of the mirror in her bedroom and absentmindedly ran a brush through her hair, smiling as memories of the past week ran through her mind.

Breakfasts with Lexa and everybody. Discussing art with Lincoln. Watching Lexa spar with Anya, Indra, and Gustus. Working with the horses with Aden. Drawing Lexa. Raven teaching her to blow stuff up and them accidentally setting Gustus’s beard on fire. Gustus coming around to accepting her and teaching her Trigedasleng. Octavia and Bellamy teaching her how to fight.

Her smile grew as she remembered the giant snowball fight from that morning and how it had ended in an invitation to dinner from Lexa.

A soft knock on the door suddenly broke Clarke out of her reverie. She quickly set down her hairbrush and stood up to answer the door.

“Octavia,” Clarke greeted, opening the door to reveal the brunette on the other side.

“Hey, Clarke,” Octavia greeted, stepping into the bedroom. “Lexa sent me to help you get ready.” She carefully held up a beautiful deep blue ball gown to show Clarke.

Clarke gasped, taking a step forward and lightly touching the soft material. “It’s beautiful, Octavia,” Clarke breathed. After a second, Clarke looked up at Octavia in confusion. “No offense, O, but I thought Raven was going to help me get ready.”

Octavia laughed, motioning toward the folding screen in the bedroom for Clarke to change. Clarke moved behind it and began to slip out of her everyday dress as Octavia responded.

“That was the plan, but Raven never could resist torturing the Commander with a bath.”

Clarke smiled at the thought, throwing her dress over the screen and taking the ball gown from Octavia. “For people under her command, you all seem very friendly with her,” Clarke commented, slipping into her ball gown.

“After ninety-seven years, you start to see her less as the Commander that you would follow into battle because of her amazing fighting prowess and more as Lexa, your friend, who you trust with your life. Especially the last few days.”

“The last few days?” Clarke asked, stepping out from behind the screen.

Octavia got up from her spot on the bed and stepped closer to help Clarke finish putting on the ball gown. She remained silent as she finished up and helped Clarke back over in front of her mirror so that she could do her hair.

After a few more moments of silence, Octavia finally answered.

“Let me put it this way; in the last few days, Lexa has seemed more happy and human than when she was actually human.”

Clarke silently absorbed the new piece of information. She couldn’t help but smile at the news and look forward to dinner even more.

\-----

“All done,” Octavia announced after a while.

Clarke glanced in the mirror, beaming at the reflection in front of her. Her hair was held back in a series of braids similar to Lexa’s. Her deep blue ball gown matched her eyes, making them stand out and sparkle even more in the candle light.

“She’s ready,” Raven exclaimed excitedly, suddenly bursting into the room without bothering to knock.

Octavia and Clarke turned to look at Raven as she stopped in her tracks just inside the door. Raven slowly dragged her eyes over Clarke, finally ending on her face.

“If I wasn’t taken, I’d try to court you myself,” Raven admitted. “But don’t tell the missus.”

“Too late,” Anya said, walking in and lightly hitting Raven on the back of the head. She smiled as she turned to look at Clarke. “Raven’s right though. Lexa won’t know what hit her. She’s waiting at the top of the grand staircase for you.”

“Thank you, Anya,” Clarke said, grinning. She had learned early on that Anya rarely expressed her approval unless she was really impressed.

Anya just nodded in response before moving over slightly so Clarke could walk out. Clarke slowly made her way toward the door. At the threshold, she stopped for a second and took a deep breath. She could feel the eyes of all three women on her as she stepped out of the room.

She quickly made her way down the hall, excitement growing with each step. She couldn’t believe how quickly she had come to like spending time in the castle and with the people there. It had only been a week and she already felt as if she couldn’t leave.

The second she reached the top of the grand staircase, she caught sight of Lexa near the bottom. She stopped in her tracks, drinking in the sight of the woman before her. Her hair was held back in its usual series of braids, but with a deep green decorative ribbon instead of the usual twine. She wore nice black dress pants. A beautiful deep green coat with gold accents over a white shirt finished off the ensemble.

As if sensing she was being watched, Lexa turned toward Clarke. Clarke’s breath caught in her throat as blue met green.

Clarke couldn’t help but smile slightly as she started to descend the staircase toward where Lexa was standing. Lexa beamed as she drew up next to her.

“You look beautiful,” Lexa murmured reverently, offering her paw for Clarke to take.

“Thank you,” Clarke said, beaming and taking Lexa’s offered paw. They immediately began to make their way down the staircase. “You look beautiful as well.”

Lexa beamed at her as they made their way down the hall toward the kitchen.

To Clarke’s surprise, Lexa lead them through a door to the right of the kitchen and into a gleaming dining room. Clarke’s eyes widened at the splendor of the room. She was used to the small table in her home on the edge of town and the castle’s kitchen, not the extravagance of the massive dining room before her.

“What’s the occasion?” Clarke asked as Lexa led her to the table.

“Dinner with a beautiful woman,” Lexa replied, politely pulling Clarke’s chair out for her.

Clarke couldn’t help but smile as she sat down in the offered chair. “Thank you,” she said as Lexa helped push her in.

“My pleasure,” Lexa said as she walked over to her own chair and sat down.

Clarke waited until Lexa was done sitting down before picking up her spoon so she could eat her soup.

Before she could take a spoonful, movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She lowered her spoon slightly and turned toward Lexa to find the brunette looking at her bowl of soup apprehensively, her spoon gripped tightly in her paw.

Clarke silently watched as, after a few moments, a steely look of determination settled over Lexa’s features. With an unsteady paw, Lexa started to dip her spoon into her soup. She slowly brought the spoon back up again. She looked at her spoon triumphantly as most of the liquid stayed in the utensil. Clarke felt a little swell of pride in her chest as Lexa looked up at her, beaming.

Lexa raised her spoon up slightly as if in a toast. “Choj op,” she said, before awkwardly raising her spoon up to her mouth.

Clarke chuckled slightly at the frustrated expression that crossed Lexa’s face as a few drops fell back into the bowl, the rest successfully making it’s way into her mouth.

“Good job,” Clarke complemented, dipping her own spoon into her soup to take her first bite.

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa said, beaming with pride. “I’ve been practicing.”

Before Clarke could open her mouth to say anything else, soft music began to play from behind her. She quickly turned in her seat to find the source of the noise. Her gaze immediately alighted on the solitary figure of Aden standing off to the side, playing the violin.

She immediately turned to look at Lexa in question. “I didn’t know Aden played.”

Lexa smiled slightly. “Ninety-seven years is a long time to learn new things. Especially someone as determined as Aden. And as bored and restless.” Lexa’s eyes suddenly darted from side to side as if checking to see if the coast is clear. Clarke found herself doing the same as Lexa leaned in conspiratorially. “Just be glad it isn’t Raven playing,” Lexa whispered. “Ninety-seven years and she still sounds as terrible as the first day she picked up an instrument.”

“I heard that!” Raven suddenly yelled from where she was hiding behind the kitchen door.

Clarke laughed at the sudden outburst and the slightly startled look on Lexa’s face.

She quickly stood up, a sudden urge seizing her. She ignored Lexa’s befuddled look of confusion as she made her way over to her and started to pull her out of her chair.

“Let’s dance,” she proposed.

Lexa’s eyes widened in surprise and trepidation, her gaze flicking back to something over Clarke’s shoulder, Clarke smiled smally as, after a second, Lexa stood up a bit taller. Clarke looked up and met Lexa’s gaze, excited to see a small glint of confidence in the other woman’s fiery green eyes.

Lexa suddenly pulled them into another room that was off the dining room, Aden following close behind.

Clarke internally applauded Aden’s ability to not miss a note while walking before she caught sight of the room around her. She nearly stumbled, thankful for the warm arms around her, as she gawked at the magnificent ballroom they had just entered. Clarke vaguely wondered how she had missed such a giant and splendid room in her exploration of the castle over the past week. She then conceded that she shouldn’t be too surprised considering how large the castle was. She was sure she could spend months exploring the castle and not discover everything it had to offer.

After a minute, Clarke dragged her gaze away from the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling and met Lexa’s gaze. The brunette’s smile immediately grew. Clarke quickly smiled in return, happiness she hadn’t felt in a very long time bubbling up inside her.

Clarke smiled contentedly up at Lexa before closing her eyes and leaning her head to rest on Lexa’s chest. Her smile grew as she listened to the slightly unsteady beating of Lexa’s heart.

The comfortable silence seemed to stretch between them for hours, the only sound coming from Aden’s violin.

Twenty minutes later, Lexa suddenly broke the silence.

“How are you liking it here, Clarke?” she asked softly, continuing to dance around the room.

Clarke pulled back to look at Lexa’s face. “I love it more than I thought possible.”

Instead of the small half smile Clarke was expecting, Lexa’s expression seemed to turn more serious and nervous. “What is it?” Clarke asked gently, concern rushing through her.

Lexa cleared her throat. “Clarke, I-”

Before she could get any farther, she stiffened, stopping them midstep. Clarke’s worry and concern grew. Suddenly, the sound of a muffled commotion sounded from beyond the ballroom door. The commotion grew louder as it got closer and Aden stopped playing, dropping his arms and staring at the doorway wearily.

Within seconds, the large double doors burst open to reveal someone hurriedly striding toward them. Clarke’s eyes widened in shock as the someone pulled up in front of them followed closely by a slightly out of breath Raven, leaning heavily on her cane.

“Finn?” Clarke asked incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, Heda,” Raven said. “He has a rifle.”

“You can’t even die until I do,” Lexa growled loud enough for only Clarke and Raven to hear.

Raven immediately shot her a withering look to which Lexa looked thoroughly chastised and guilty. Clarke expertly ignored the exchange, having grown used to hearing and seeing even stranger things since the ninety-seven years reveal, and kept her focus trained on the annoying male still standing in front of them.

“What are you doing here, Finn?” Clarke demanded, a flash of anger coursing through her as she remembered the last time she had seen him. She silently wished Lexa would strike him down with her claws.

All thoughts of bodily harm toward him vanished as he finally answered her question.

“Bandits. They came out of nowhere. We tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them. They took your mother,” Finn said urgently.

Clarke’s blood froze, images of her sick mother being tortured and killed flooding her mind.

“Which bandits?” Clarke demanded. She lurched forward, grabbing Finn’s arms desperately. Her mother and her might have their differences, but she was still her mother, and as much as she disliked Finn, he was the only one who knew what she needed at the moment. “Which bandits, Finn?”

“Azgeda,” Finn readily replied. “One of them said something about Azgeda.”

Clarke immediately spun around toward Lexa, her lips already forming around the words of her request.

Lexa beat her to the punch. “I will do everything I can to help you get your mother back, Clarke,” she vowed.

“I’m coming with you,” Clarke said. There was no way she was going to sit on the side lines. Lexa immediately opened her mouth to argue, but Clarke just shook her head. “There’s no use arguing. I’m coming whether you like it or not.”

“Clarke,” Finn interrupted. “Maybe you should-”

“Be quiet, Finn,” Clarke snapped at the same time Lexa sent him a ferocious glare. He quieted immediately.

Clarke waited with bated breath as Lexa silently deliberated.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Find Octavia and tell her to bring out the special armor I had set aside for you.” Lexa ordered. “And you stay by her side all night.”

Clarke immediately nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

She quickly darted forward, grateful when Lexa reflexively leaned down, and placed a quick kiss on Lexa’s cheek. Without waiting to see the brunette’s reaction, Clarke spun around and darted out of the ballroom. She had a battle to prepare for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for the braids in Clarke's hair in this chapter, I just imagined them to be very similar if not exactly the same as the way she was wearing them in 3x03 with the only difference being that her hair is thoroughly washed. However, I feel like she would have had to wash it for those braids to have been in it. Which then makes me a bit confused because her hair ends up returning to the exact same state it had been in after she had been living for three months in the woods without a bath which doesn't make sense after the braids, at least to me, unless Clarke is purposefully styling her hair that way. I've also wondered exactly how long it would take to put all those braids in her hair, especially with all the time having to spend untangling it. And then like, Lexa has to do that everyday. Does she do it herself? Does she have handmaidens that do it for her? How many handmaidens does it take if any? I feel like Lexa wouldn't have time for how long it must take to do those braids everyday. Does she get up at the ass crack of dawn to put these braids in? Cause they look way too put together for her to have slept in them. But then again, she's been doing this since she was little, at least I assume. Anyway. I'm rambling way too much. I shall shut up now.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and have a good time of day you're having.
> 
> Translation:  
> 'choj op' = 'eat'


	13. A Very Unwanted Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance. Here's some angst.

Lexa stood, dazed, as Clarke ran out of the ballroom. She watched her go, her heart soaring. She hadn’t been expecting a kiss, even if it had just been on the cheek. Other than Clarke’s mother being kidnapped, the night had been going better than she had hope.

A sudden clearing of somebody’s throat broke her out of her daze. She shook her head slightly and turned toward Raven. She quickly adopted her usual stoic mask, barely keeping her anger in check, as she caught sight of the unwanted guest.

“Raven?” Lexa inquired.

“What are our orders, Heda?” Raven asked, standing up a little straighter with her cane.

“Gather everybody together,” Lexa ordered. “Tell them to prepare for battle. We’re going up against Azgeda once again.”

Raven grinned evilly. “With pleasure.”

Lexa nodded slightly as Raven turned and limped out of the room, Aden following close behind. She immediately turned toward her unwanted guest, giving him a quick once over.

“Come with me,” she ordered, turning and starting to stride out of the ballroom and toward her bedroom. She needed to get as much information out of him as she could.

“When did they take her?” Lexa asked as they made their way down the hall.

“Earlier this morning,” the unwanted guest answered readily.

Lexa nodded slightly, processing the information. They might still have time.

“How many of them were there?”

Lexa continued to ask him questions rapidly as they made their way into her bedroom. She quickly changed from her suit into her regular armor.

She quickly finished changing and interrogating the unwanted guest. An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

After a few moments, Lexa walked back into the main room of her chambers, clearing her throat.

“It’s very nice of you to do this,” Lexa said, trying to be nice. If there was one thing she had learned in the week Clarke had been there, it was how to act a bit more civilized.

The unwanted guest just shrugged slightly. “It’s what’s you do for family,” he stated simply. Lexa frowned slightly. She wracked her brains, trying to remember if Clarke had mentioned that she and the unwanted guest were related. “Of course, Mrs. Griffin is going to be my mother after all since Clarke and I are betrothed.”

Lexa froze, her blood turning to ice. The Commander quickly threw up her usual stoic facade, ignoring the painful cracks she could feel forming in her heart. The familiar mantra of ‘love is weakness’ started to run through her mind as she focused back on the very unwanted guest.

“I hope you two are happy together,” the Commander said, a bitter taste permeating her mouth.

A grin she really didn’t like crossed his features as he replied. “I will be.”

Before the Commander could think of a response to the unusual wording of his response, a loud knock sounded through the room.

“Min op,” she called, turning toward the door as Anya stepped through.

“Aden will have the horses prepared momentarily,” Anya reported, stopping smartly in front of the Commander.

“Thank you,” the Commander replied. She ignored Anya’s slight frown and turned toward the very unwanted guest. “Follow me.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and strode from the room. She quickly left Anya and the very unwanted guest behind, assured that Anya knew where she was going, as she made her way to the front doors of her castle. The cracks in her heart grew with each step she took, knowing Clarke would be waiting at the front doors.

The Commander stopped herself right outside of hearing range of the front doors. She took a deep, steadying breath and threw the usual walls up around her heart. She resolutely ignored the fact that it was harder than it had been previously.

Her ears twitched slightly at the sound of the very unwanted guest’s footsteps approaching. The Commander quickly steeled herself and started forward, keeping herself out of earshot of Anya’s footsteps, knowing that that would mean they were basically on top of her. If one good thing had come out of her heightened senses, it was that every one of her warriors had learned how to be that much stealthier. Good for fighting. Not so good when they were pulling pranks.

She swiftly turned the corner and emerged at the top of the grand staircase. Her traitorous gaze immediately fell on Clarke where she was talking to Gustus. The Commander nearly missed a step as she took in the beautiful woman before her.

Some of Clarke’s hair was pulled back in a few braids in true warrior style. Her armor fit her snuggly, accentuating all her features. Her coat flared out at her hips just like the Commander’s did. The Commander couldn’t help but feel a tad bit proud at how much of a warrior Clarke looked. She looked absolutely stunning.

Suddenly, as if sensing she was being watched, Clarke turned to look at her. The Commander quickly turned her head, ignoring the smile Clarke sent her way, as she started to make her way over to the Blake siblings.

“Bellamy. Octavia,” the Commander greeted gruffly as she approached.

The pair immediately halted their conversation and snapped to attention in front of her.

“Heda?” Octavia prompted as she came to a stop in front of them.

“Clarke,” the Commander murmured low enough for only the two of them to hear. “She is not allowed to be harmed. I want you two to keep an eye on her. Make sure no harm comes to her. But don’t smother her. She can hold her own.”

“Understood, Heda,” Bellamy said. Octavia nodded from next to him.

Before the Commander could do anything but nod in acknowledgement. Aden came bursting into the room. He quickly made his way over to where the Commander was standing, panting slightly. He had never seriously taken up running like a lot of the others. He chose more to stay behind and keep Raven company.

“The horses are ready, Heda,” he announced.

The Commander nodded slightly before turning and taking in the room at large.

“Prepare yourselves!” the Commander roared, her powerful voice filling the room. She felt a slight pull of satisfaction as the very unwanted guest startled and nearly fell over. Anya just sent him an unimpressed look. “For tonight we march on Azgeda!” she finished.

A roar of approval immediately went up from her small group of remaining warriors. They all had their reasons for wanting to take down Azgeda. Suddenly, Raven raised her sword and started to chant, her face a mask of angry determination. The rest quickly joined in.

“Jus drein jus daun,” the shouted, their voices rising to the ceiling and filling the room.

The Commander couldn’t help the tiny, tight lipped smile that graced her features as she got swept up in the fervor of the chant. Her gaze scanned the small band of warriors one more time before striding to the front doors.

She resolutely ignored Clarke and the urge to look at her as she walked by her and pushed open the doors, revealing a small group of saddled horses waiting for them.

The Commander immediately made her way to the biggest horse, Natblida, and swung herself up onto her back. She quickly turned slightly to take in her warriors. She watched as everybody easily swung up into their saddles. She smirked slightly as the very unwanted guest nearly fell off his horse as the steed reared up as he mounted.

Before she could turn around and start the march forward, her gaze flicked over to where Clarke was sitting on Trikova. The horse had taken a great liking to her in the week she had helped Aden train him. Their eyes locked across the expanse of the yard. The Commander quickly looked away as if burned, but not before noticing the pain behind the blue of Clarke’s eyes. Her heart thumped erratically against her chest, urging her to go over and make sure Clarke was okay.

The Commander growled at herself and whipped her horse around. She locked her heart up tighter as she made her way through the gates. She could hear everybody else falling in behind her. She felt a fierce pride burn through her at how well her warriors were still able to prepare for battle even after ninety-seven years.

The pride quickly dissipated as the soft thud of approaching hoof beats suddenly reached the Commander’s ears. Seconds later, Raven pulled up next to the Commander.

“What’s happening between you and Clarke?” Raven demanded.

“Get back in line, Raven,” the Commander ordered, keeping her gaze locked onto the path in front of them.

“Everything was going fine,” Raven pressed on. “And now you’re ignoring her. Something’s happened.”

The Commander bristled at the reminder of the wonderful evening she had had with Clarke. The pain of the very unwanted guest’s words flared up anew. “Get back in line,” she growled at Raven.

“We have a while before we reach the Azgeda stronghold,” Raven argued. “And we need to talk about this. We have a chance. An honest to God chance. And you obviously like her and she obviously-”

“Raven,” the Commander snapped, cursing the break in her voice as she turned to look at the girl riding next to her.

She didn’t want to hear about how obvious it was that Clarke didn’t like her. About how obvious it was that she didn’t want anything to do with her. About how obvious it was that she was meant for someone else. About how obvious it was that she loved someone else.

Raven’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked into the Commander’s eyes. The Commander looked away, realizing she had revealed too much.

“I’m sorry, Heda,” Raven whispered, only loud enough for the Commander’s overly sensitive hearing to catch.

“Get back in line, Raven,” the Commander ordered wearily.

She sighed in relief as Raven immediately inclined her head slightly before pulling back to fall into line next to Anya. The Commander quickly pressed her lips together and looked up slightly, fighting against the burn of tears at the back of her eyes.

As soon as she got her emotions under control, she leveled her gaze onto the path in front of her and focused everything she had on the battle ahead of her, ignoring the pain ripping through her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> min op = enter


	14. March on Azgeda

Clarke silently rode by herself at the back of the column. She was supposed to be riding next to Finn, but he had been struggling with his horse since he had mounted. Clarke quickly glanced over her shoulder to see him still struggling to stay on Swis. He had fallen off twice already.

Clarke just as quickly turned back around to look at the ground in front of her sadly. She could feel tears burn the back of her throat as she thought of the way Lexa had been ignoring her since she had left to get ready for the battle to come. She fiercely wracked her brains to find what she could have done to bring upon Lexa’s indifference.

Suddenly, two horses flanked her on the path. Her hand immediately rose and grasped the hilt of her sword. Before she could unsheath it, a flash of silver flashed across her vision. She nearly gave herself whiplash as she looked down to see a knife held centimeters away from her stomach.

“And you’re dead,” Aden said from his position on her left. Lincoln chuckled lowly from the horse on her right. Aden gracefully tucked the knife back into his belt before continuing. “I know it’s only been a week, Clarke, but we trained you better than this. What’s wrong?”

The tears and sadness that had disappeared at the sudden knife to her stomach immediately came rushing back. The tears burned even harder behind her eyes. They were quickly joined by a large lump in the back of her throat. She cleared her throat slightly before responding.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice thick with emotion she was hoping Aden and Lincoln wouldn’t pick up on.

She had no such luck.

“What’s wrong, Clarke?” Lincoln asked gently.

She shook her head, refusing to answer. She didn’t want Lexa to hear her with her oversensitive hearing. Her eyes darted to the Commander of their own accord before she forcefully brought her gaze back down to the ground in front of her.

Lincoln’s gaze seemed to follow hers and understood instantly. “Don’t worry. She can’t hear you this far back,” he assured.

“Trust me. We checked. Just don’t talk too loud,” Aden interjected, grinning mischievously. Clarke immediately filed away a reminder to ask for that story later.

“Is it about the Commander?” Lincoln asked, remaining on task.

Clarke’s gaze immediately flicked back up to Lexa’s back before flicking toward the ground again and nodding. She didn’t trust herself to speak around the ever bigger lump in her throat. She looked up to see Lincoln’s brown eyes soft with sadness and understanding.

“She’s been ignoring me,” Clarke admitted. “And I don’t know why. One second we were fine and the next second she won’t even look at me.”

“Don’t worry, Clarke,” Aden assured. “She always goes into Commander mode right before a battle. She’ll be back to normal the second the battle is over.”

Clarke looked up at him hopefully.

“You really think so?” she asked hopefully.

Aden immediately nodded confidently. Clarke quickly turned to get Lincoln’s opinion. Her heart plummeted as she saw him shaking his head, thoughtfully studying the Commander’s back.

“No,” Lincoln argued. “This isn’t like her normal Heda persona. This is more like how she was after she lost…” He immediately trailed off before he could say her name, but Clarke knew who he was talking about. Costia.

She turned to look at Lexa’s back worriedly. She wanted to ride up and comfort the woman she had grown to deeply care for over the week, but she held back. She didn’t want to impose on Lexa’s grief for the woman she loved.

Suddenly, both Aden and Lincoln sat up straighter. She turned to look at Lincoln in alarm as Aden pulled forward to take his spot in the column.

“Your friend is back,” Lincoln explained before pulling forward and lining up with Aden.

Clarke glanced behind her, catching sight of Finn finally catching up with the column. Swis seemed to be cooperating for the time being. Clarke immediately whipped back around in her saddle.

“He’s not my friend,” Clarke hissed at Lincoln’s back as Finn pulled up next to her. She could see him smile slightly before Finn started to try and claim her attention.

“Hey, Princess,” Finn greeted with a smug, cocky smile.

Clarke frowned at the greeting. She had always hated that nickname. “What do you want, Finn?” she snapped. She wasn’t in the mood.

Her worry for Lexa grew with each step they made toward Azgeda. She didn’t understand why going to where Costia died equated her being ignored, but she hated seeing Lexa in any kind of pain.

Clarke suddenly froze as a scary thought pierced her. Trikova whickered softly, causing Clarke to focus enough to remain on the horse as thoughts started to race through her head.

What if Lexa didn’t care for her the way Clarke did for her? What if Costia still held Lexa’s affections and ignoring Clarke was Lexa’s way of letting her down gently? Or worse. What if Lexa cared for her the way Clarke hoped, but being reminded of her old love’s untimely and horrible death made Lexa feel guilty for her affections? Clarke felt like she had been doused in frigid water.

Suddenly, she was violently thrown back to earth as Finn’s voice broke through her thoughts. She vaguely wondered which was worse; thinking such depressing thoughts or listening to Finn talk, as she tuned into what he was saying. She quickly came to the conclusion that listening to Finn was worse.

“I just wanted to talk to my girl,” Finn said in a voice that Clarke was sure he thought was charming. “Is that a crime?”

She stared at him for a second, shocked at his audacity. Within moments, she found her voice again.

“Your girl?” she asked incredulously. “I’m no one’s girl. Least of all yours.”

Finn’s expression immediately hardened. “I wouldn’t be so sure, Clarke,” Finn threatened, all hint of charm gone.

Clarke’s thoughts unwillingly wandered to the way Lexa always clicked the ‘k’ at the end of her name. She had found she didn’t like her name being said any other way.

She forcefully brought herself back to earth to analyze what he had said. A small knot of worry started to form in the pit of her stomach as the threatening tone of Finn’s words finally sank in.

“What makes you say that?” she bit out, glad at the steadiness of her voice.

Finn grinned a grin Clarke really did not like. “There are things you don’t know, Princess.”

Clarke’s rage flared at the nickname. “I know enough. I know you’re a horribly disgusting man that I will never ever marry.”

If possible, Finn’s expression hardened even further. “Again. I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Suddenly, his gaze flicked toward the Commander before flicking to the trees surrounding them. Only years of having to put up with Finn clued Clarke in on the seemingly inconsequential gesture. She frowned in confusion for a second before her gaze flicked to follow his, realization dawning with horror. Her gaze immediately flicked to look at Lexa where she was still leading the column of warriors.

“And I know,” Clarke said, her voice rising to a level that she knew Lexa would hear across the distance. “That this is a trap.”

Finn turned to look at her in shock at the proclamation. Lincoln and Aden both tensed, their hands immediately halfway toward their weapons. Clarke kept her eyes locked on Lexa’s back. She grinned triumphantly as Lexa’s ear twitched at the sound of her voice. And then all hell broke loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom. Out.


	15. Ambush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this chapter more than earns the graphic violence warning I put on this work. If you don't want to read that stuff, just jump down to the section break thing. After that, it's free of violence. I'll write a quick summary of what happens in the first part for anybody who wants to skip that. Either way, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Clarke clicked her tongue in a predetermined signal, sending Swis rearing up and Finn tumbling to the ground as Lexa sprung up off Natblida’s back, landing on all fours on the path in front of the horse just as a bunch of arrows and crossbow bolts flew out of the trees right at where Lexa had been sitting not even a second before.

Natblida reared up with a loud whiney at the sudden loss of a rider and the numerous amounts of projectiles piercing her body. Within seconds, everybody had their weapons out as another flurry of arrows rained down on the group. Nyko and Ryder immediately returned fire as Indra grunted in pain and slid from her horse with a crossbow bolt in her shoulder.

Aden and Lincoln quickly spurred their horses forward, swords raised, as Octavia and Bellamy suddenly fell back to flank Clarke.

Three muffled thumps reached Clarke’s ears through the chaos as Bellamy joined Nyko and Ryder in shooting at the enemy and all three made their mark. They all reloaded as another flurry of arrows rained down. Two more fell to the trio’s arrows.

Clarke craned her head, trying to catch a glimpse of where Lexa had disappeared to in the chaos. She tightened her grip on her now unsheathed sword and Trikova’s reins as she stood up in her saddle.

Before she could catch sight of the telltale flash of Lexa’s fur, she was blindsided as a horde of sword wielding bandits descended on them from both sides.

Bellamy got off two more shots, both hitting their mark, before abandoning his bow and unsheathing his sword. Clarke quickly lost track of what was happening as she swung her sword at the moving bodies beneath her.

After only a few swings and unfortunately less injured enemies, she felt someone grab the back of her armor and start to drag her out of her saddle. Clarke flailed in desperation, her elbow connecting with something behind her as she did so. She immediately felt the person's grip slacken and disappear but her momentum continued to carry her out of her saddle and onto the ground.

She quickly scrambled to her feet before any of the Azgeda could take advantage of her fallen state. Not even a second later, a bandit descended on her, blade raised.

Clarke instinctively raised her blade to parry, their blades meeting with a clash of metal on metal. Her mind flashed through the depressingly short list of things she had learned during her daily lessons with Octavia as the bandit swung at her again.

She barely parried his next flurry of blows. Her mind raced with possibilities on how to win. She quickly caught sight of Trikova doing his best to trample anybody in sight. As soon as she could, she let out a sharp whistle.

Trikova immediately looked in her direction. She quickly sounded out a verbal signal she had taught him earlier that week with Aden’s help and motioned toward the Azgeda in front of her as he pulled back for another swing. Without a second’s hesitation, Trikova bolted forward and trampled her attacker.

Clarke quickly tried to catch her breath as Trikova continued on to trample anybody else he could get under his hooves.

Before she could fully catch her breath, three more Azgeda descended on her. Her heart sank with the knowledge that if she couldn’t fight off one Azgeda without the aid of her horse, then there was no way she was going to be able to fight off three of them by herself.

She raised her blade to block one of the Azgeda, but cried out in pain as another was able to hit her in her side. She stumbled and nearly fell, her blade faltering and letting another hit sneak through to connect with her arm.

A sudden roar split the air before another hit could connect. Clarke blinked in surprise as the Azgeda that had stood in front of her suddenly disappeared to be replaced with Lexa in all her glory.

Steam rose from Lexa’s fur as she crouched in front of Clarke. A continuous growl rumbled deep in her chest as she glared at the now weary Azgeda bandits. Her green eyes burned with an all consuming fire Clarke had never seen before. Blood matted her fur in numerous paces from where she had been injured by swords and arrows. She clenched her swords tightly in her fists, but Clarke could see she had been using her claws just as much as they both ran red with blood.

Clarke struggled to her feet as the Azgeda remained frozen, too afraid to face the overwhelming wrath of the Commander.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, loud enough so only Lexa could hear her. She immediately saw the imperceptible relief that swept through Lexa.

Suddenly, a crossbow bolt appeared in Lexa’s shoulder. The Commander roared in pain, rearing up from where she had been crouched and sliced one of the nearby Azgeda in half. The other one immediately took a fearful step back.

“What are you doing?!” someone shrieked. Clarke looked up to see the Azgeda leader standing atop a small incline with an unloaded crossbow in his hands. “Attack her!”

Any extra Azgeda fighting turned and rushed the Commander with swords raised, leaving two Azgeda each to deal with Lexa’s warriors.

Lexa literally sprang into action. She leapt up, slicing two Azgeda’s chests open as she pierced another two with the claws on her feet, knocking them over and landing on them with a sickening crunch. And suddenly she was in the middle of about thirty Azgeda.

Clarke watched in awe as Lexa sliced, clawed, stabbed, and bit her way through the group, leaving carnage in her wake.

She was suddenly wrenched back to her own predicament as one of the Azgeda broke off and made a beeline for her. Without thinking, she threw her sword as hard as she could. It flew into the man’s chest with a wet thud.

Clarke quickly reached for her belt, thankful when her hands brushed the numerous throwing knives she had forgotten Octavia had given her. She immediately grabbed three and started to throw them into the crowd surrounding Lexa.

They made quick work of the bandits. Bodies littered the ground in piles, the snow stained red with blood. Clarke ran forward and yanked her sword out of the dead man’s chest as Lexa whirled around to look at her. Clarke stopped a little ways away from Lexa, running her gaze over her to assess her injuries as Lexa seemed to do the same. When Lexa seemed satisfied, she whirled back around the leapt up to where the Azgeda leader was standing, looking down at the carnage below him in fear and shock.

Lexa landed in front of him on the slope. She gracefully sheathed her swords on her back and rose to her full seven foot height. The Azgeda leader wrenched his eyes away from the carnage to fully look up at Lexa’s unforgiving scowl.

“Jus drein jus daun,” Lexa growled.

At that, Lexa’s paw darted out and grabbed the Azgeda leader by the scruff of the neck. He immediately started to helplessly struggle as she dragged him down the hill to where Raven stood wearing a deadly expression on her face.

Clarke watched as Lexa came to a stop in front of Raven and threw him to the ground. He landed sprawled at Raven’s feet. He immediately started to try and scramble to his feet. Raven leveled a sword to his neck in response.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Raven threatened, her voice dangerously low and yet carrying to everybody. The Azgeda leader froze.

Suddenly, Anya appeared at Raven’s shoulder. She silently traded Raven’s sword for a loaded crossbow. Raven’s knuckles shone white as she tightly gripped the crossbow in her hands. She slowly started to make her way to stand behind the man.

Anya crouched down in front of him and pressed a knife to his throat. Even from where Clarke stood, she could see small beads of blood appear under her knife.

“Don’t move,” Anya growled as Raven came to a stop behind him.

Raven stood there for a few moments. Clarke held her breath as she watched her, sure everybody else was doing the same. Everybody knew what was going to happen next. This was the man that had nearly paralyzed Raven and made her walk with a cane. Raven would get the kill.

Without warning, Raven brought the crossbow up and pulled the trigger. The crossbow bolt hit its mark in the man's back in the same place his had hit Raven ninety-seven years previously. The Azgeda leader’s scream rent the air in two. Clarke saw Aden flinch out of the corner of her eye.

Raven forcefully tossed the crossbow to the side and started to make her way to stand in front of the man again. Anya quickly stood up and moved out of her way, remaining by her side as Raven crouched in front of him. Even over the man’s screamed, Raven’s words were as clear as day.

“I used to think I was a merciful person,” Raven said. Clarke shivered at the deadly quality of her voice. “But the merciful thing would be to kill you.”

“Please,” the man pleaded.

Raven gave him an unsettling grin and shook her head. “My mercy has all run out. Have fun being a cripple.”

The Azgeda leader howled in both physical and emotional agony as Raven hoisted herself to her feet. Anya immediately stepped forward to help. Raven looked at her gratefully.

“I’m ready to go.”

Lexa nodded, her face impassive. She silently scanned her warriors. Clarke found herself following suit.

Aden and Lincoln stood nearby, blood seeping out of their many wounds, taking care of the horses that had survived the battle. Octavia looked mostly unscathed where she stood, supporting Bellamy’s weight as he slumped from blood loss from a crossbow bolt in his side. Nyko had a large lump on his forehead from where he had been knocked unconscious. Ryder’s skin had already started to darken from the many bruises he had obtained from going hand-to-hand against the Azgeda. His voice sounded raspy from the ugly bruises on his neck. Anya supported Raven as they made their way over toward the horses. Anya looked completely unscathed, but blood poured from a cut on Raven’s bad leg. Indra and Gustus both looked like pin cushions with how many arrows and crossbow bolts protruded from them. If Clarke didn’t know they couldn’t die until Lexa did, she would have wondered how any of them had survived.

Clarke’s gaze flicked over to Lexa at that thought. Blood poured from her numerous wounds, matting her fur into sticky tangles. Clarke vaguely wondered how much of that blood was actually hers before she continued her scan of the other woman.

Large slices and chunks were taken out of her armor, which remained more or less intact. No less than five broken arrow and bolt shafts protruded from thankfully nonlethal places. Blood that was obviously not Lexa’s covered her face, nearly hiding the black fur around her eyes.

Suddenly, Lexa’s gaze snapped to hers. They locked eyes for a second before Lexa looked away as if burned. Clarke’s heart broke a bit more at the obvious rejection.

“Raven,” Lexa called, walking over to where Anya had just finished helping Raven up into the saddle. Clarke was close enough to hear her even as she lowered her voice. “Take everybody else and get them back to the castle and patch them up. We don’t want those arrows and bolts healing into Indra, Gustus, and Bellamy.”

Raven nodded. Her gaze quickly flicked to Clarke before going back to Lexa. Clarke looked away as if caught doing something she shouldn’t have.

“What about you and Clarke?” Raven asked. Clarke frowned as she got the sense that Raven didn’t just mean about going to Azgeda.

Lexa shook her head slightly. “We’ll be fine,” she assured, looking around at the carnage they had left all over the ground. “They threw everything they had at us here. There won’t be anybody at their stronghold.”

“Are you sure?” Raven queried.

“Well, if I’m not, we just took out thirty Azgeda by ourselves,” Lexa said. Clarke could hear the smirk on her lips. “I think we’ll be fine.”

Raven smirked as well. “Heda,” she said, inclining her head slightly.

Lexa nodded slightly in return before turning away. Before she could get very far, she turned back toward Raven.

“Oh. And Raven?” she said. “See if you can find the traitor along the way.”

Clarke frowned for a second before realizing she was talking about Finn. She quickly spun and scanned the short stretch of path they had been ambushed on. Anger flared up inside her as she found no trace of Finn or where he had gone. She had never hated Finn more than she had right then.

“Are you ready to go?” a voice behind her suddenly asked.

Clarke spun around to find Lexa walking toward her with Trikova. The rest of Lexa’s warriors mounted their remaining horses behind her and started to go back the way they had come. Clarke heart clenched and anger flared anew as she realized how everything could have gone so much worse if Finn’s plan with the Azgeda had worked.

“I need my knives,” Clarke bit out.

She made her way past Lexa and Trikova and into the carnage they had left on the ground. She quickly picked her way through the bodies, wrenching her knives out of each body and wiping it in the snow before putting it back in her belt.

Doubt and fear started to gnaw at her anger as she started to wonder if the Azgeda ever really had her mother. What if it had all been a ruse? What if they did have her, but had killed her thinking they wouldn’t need her after they had killed Lexa and her warriors?

Clarke glanced up toward Lexa to find the brunette watching her. Lexa immediately looked away to started to fiddle with something on Trikova’s saddle, obviously trying to pretend she had been doing that the whole time.

Worry and uncertainty started to mix with the doubt and fear and anger inside of her, creating a wild whirlwind of emotions. Worry for Lexa and uncertainty of her fate after they rescued her mother built as she pulled the last knife out and put it in her belt.

“I’m ready,” Clarke announced, walking over to where Lexa was standing next to Trikova.

She stopped a few feet in front of Lexa as the other woman remained standing next to Trikova. Clarke tried to look as confident as she could as Lexa looked at her, seeming to see through her as she studied her. Worry flashed across Lexa’s features for a second before her expression returned to one of stoicism. She nodded slightly and stepped away from Trikova, giving Clarke room to get onto Trikova’s back.

Clarke stood for a second, confusion joining her already large jumble of emotions. Before her confusion could show, she stepped forward and grabbed Trikova’s saddle, swinging herself up to settle comfortably on his back.

When she was done, Lexa took a step toward her, seeming to look everything over to make sure she was secure. Finally, Lexa looked at Clarke. The blonde was suddenly hit with exactly how tall Lexa was as the brunette stayed at her eye level even from her position standing next to the horse.

“Follow me,” Lexa ordered before falling to all fours and springing forward.

Without a second’s hesitation, Clarke clicked her tongue and dug her heels into Trikova’s side slightly. Trikova immediately sprang forward, following Lexa at a run as she dashed on ahead of them.

Wind whistled in Clarke’s ears as they rushed through the woods, trees blurring by them. Clarke kept her mind from wandering as she focused on keeping Lexa in her sights. Even with all her efforts, worry continued to blossom inside her with each drop of scarlet she saw on the snow covered ground.

\-----

After about fifteen minutes, the woods suddenly opened up to reveal a large, white castle. She pulled up on the reins, coming to a stop next to Lexa as she examined the castle. Clarke couldn’t help but compare it to Lexa’s castle. It was much smaller but much more dilapidated. Clarke couldn’t help but feel it looked comparatively worse than Lexa’s considering it was smaller and there were more people to take care of it.

When she was done with her inspection, Clarke dismounted, dropping to the ground next to Lexa’s still crouched form. They silently stood and studied the castle for a few more moments.

“Your mother will be in the dungeon,” Lexa said quietly, breaking the silence as she began to step forward. “Follow me.”

Clarke quickly pulled one of her knives from her belt and fell into step next to Lexa, keeping her eyes peeled for any Azgeda as they approached the front doors.

Lexa stood up into a half crouch as they reached the door, moving so that she was in front of Clarke. She unsheathed one of her swords as she opened the door. Clarke tightened her hold on her throwing knife as she followed close behind.

The second they crossed the threshold, Lexa turned to their right, leading Clarke down a corridor that looked exactly like the one in Lexa’s castle. Clarke silently studied her surroundings as they continued down the corridor.

Instead of armor and weapons, furs of all shapes, sizes, and colors lined the walls, insulating against the frigid cold that permeated the castle.

“It looks exactly like yours,” Clarke breathed out, her breath misting out in front of her as she continued to study the castle around her.

She heard Lexa give a humorless chuckle before replying. “Architecture was never their forte.”

Clarke shivered slightly, knowing exactly what their forte was. She immediately quickened her pace and prayed that nothing had happened to her mother.

Within seconds, they reached the dungeon door. Clarke lurched forward, expertly ignoring Lexa’s protestations, and wrenched the door open.

“Mother!” Clarke called, dashing down the steps. “Mother!”

A small groan off to her left caught Clarke’s attention. She jumped the last two steps and rushed over to the cell the groan had come from.

Her blood ran cold at the sight of her mother laying sprawled out on the floor of her cell, barely conscious.

“Mother!” Clarke practically screamed, fruitlessly yanking on the cell door. She couldn’t lose another parent.

She quickly turned, not removing her hands from the ice cold metal of the door and started to look for a set of keys to open it. Suddenly, a pair of paws grabbed her and moved her away from the door.

Clarke immediately stepped forward, her mouth open to argue, as Lexa turned back toward the cell door.

Her protests died on her tongue as Lexa wrapped her paws around the bars of the door and yanked with all her might. The door immediately wrenched free of the doorway, the stone around the door exploding outward in a cloud of dust.

Before the dust could settle, Lexa threw the door into the opposite corner of the room and rushed inside the cell. Clarke immediately rushed to the doorway just in time to see Lexa carefully scooping up her mother off the floor.

Clarke rushed to Lexa’s side as she exited the cell, swiftly making her way up the staircase and back through the castle.

“She’s cold as ice,” Clarke gasped, touching her mother’s forehead.

Her mind quickly switched into medical mode, running through every course of action she could take to help her mother.

“I need to get her back to town,” Clarke murmured worriedly to herself as they burst back out into the open air of the castle’s courtyard.

Her mind raced with herbs and measurements as they hurried over to where Trikova still stood next to the tree line. Clarke hovered worriedly as Lexa gently laid her mother down across Trikova’s back. The second she was satisfied her mother was secure, Clarke swung herself up into the saddle, gripping onto the reins and her mother tightly.

“I’ll be back as soon as my mother is settled,” Clarke vowed, looking over at Lexa.

Surprise rippled through her as Lexa shook her head.

“You do not need to return,” Lexa said. “Consider your debt paid.”

Clarke immediately opened her mouth to argue, ignoring the cracks forming in her heart as what Lexa was saying started to sink in. Before she could say anything, Lexa locked eyes with her, stopping her in her tracks. Clarke closed her mouth, trying to decipher the look shining through Lexa’s eyes. Clarke kept her eyes locked onto Lexa’s, trying to find a way back even though she knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun.

After a long moment, Clarke swallowed thickly, tamping down the sorrow she could feel starting to fill her up.

“May we meet again,” she whispered.

Lexa kept their eyes locked for a few moments longer, inexplicable sadness brimming in her eyes, before turning around and dashing into the trees. Clarke’s heart shattered as she watched Lexa disappear into the woods. She kept her eyes trained on the spot Lexa had disappeared for a few moments, not wanting to let go, before turning Trikova around and urging him in the direction of home, trying to ignore the tears streaming down her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all those who jumped down to the section break, the first part was just Lexa being a beast, Clarke and the rest of the gang kicking ass, and Raven getting her revenge on that Azgeda leader that shot her in the back and made her walk with a cane.


	16. Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story. I completely forgot yesterday was Tuesday. For that, I'd like to apologize and to make up for it, I'll post the next chapter later tonight for you guys. In the mean time, I hope you guys like angst.

The Commander trudged her way through the gates of her castle. She resolutely tried to ignore the thoughts of blonde hair and blue eyes that bombarded her, her heart cracking just a bit more with every thought that slipped through. She vaguely wondered how long it would take to feel as indifferent about Clarke’s memory as she did about Costia’s.

The Commander froze at the thought, stopping halfway through the courtyard as if hitting an invisible wall. Bile rose in her throat at the idea of the memory of Clarke being recalled with nothing but a detached indifference. She wished it wouldn’t get that far but the nearly gone memory of Costia’s memory detaching itself from her feelings tugged at her heart and reminded her that it was inevitable. She knew she didn’t want to go through that pain again even if she couldn’t fully remember what it had felt like the first time.

The Commander gave herself a second to think about Clarke. She recalled every memory of her that she had, basking in everything that was Clarke.

Her heart wrenched as she remembered the look of her heartbreak on Clarke’s face right before she had left her at the Azgeda castle. The Commander let the pain fill her up for a second before looking it away. She stood up straighter and began to build walls back around her heart, ignoring how difficult it had become.

The second she was done, the Commander continued her walk to the front doors of her castle.

She burst through the front door in a flurry of snow. She quickly hid her surprise as all of her warriors leapt up from where they had been lounging around the entrance hall, obviously waiting for her.

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, subtly scanning her warriors’ injuries. The lump on Nyko’s head had already gone down considerably and Ryder’s bruises had faded to an ugly yellowish green. Indra and Gustus were almost completely hidden under bandages, thankfully free from the arrows and bolts that had bristled from them earlier. A large bandage covered Bellamy’s midsection, a tiny speck of red from where he had obviously irritated the wound so it wouldn’t heal as quickly marring the pristine white cloth. Raven leaned a little bit heavier on her cane from her bandaged cut on her bad leg. A small number of bandages littered Aden and Lincoln’s skin, most of their wounds already looking like faded scars from their fast healing. Anya and Octavia looked as completely unscathed as they had on the path after the battle.

As if waiting for her to finish her inspection, Raven spoke up the second the Commander was done.

“Where’s Clarke?”

The Commander kept her expression a stoic mask even as a crack appeared in the newly formed walls around her heart.

“She has returned to town with her mother,” the Commander answered, striding past them and starting up the grand staircase. She couldn’t deal with their questions. Not if the crack in her walls from just Raven’s question was any indication.

Aden’s voice immediately stopped her in her tracks.

“When will she be back?” he asked hopefully.

The crack grew, nearly splitting her walls in two. She looked up at the ceiling to stop the tears she could feel threatening to fall. She could feel all of her warriors’ eyes on her back as she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

“Never,” she replied quietly, keeping her back to her warriors.

All of them began to talk at once. Their voices filled the hall, seeming to echo off the ceiling and surrounding the Commander. Cracks splintered across the Commander’s walls. At the sound of Indra’s voice, the walls shattered. Indra had been the biggest opponent to Clarke’s presence in the castle.

“She is never coming back!” the Commander roared, whirling around to face the small crowd of warriors behind her.

Everybody immediately stopped talking, taking a step back as she snarled. The Commander couldn’t find it in her to care as she saw the fear and surprise on their faces.

“She will remain in town and marry Finn and live out the rest of her days happy and with the love of her life,” the Commander snapped. “No matter how much I-” She choked slightly and paused, closing her eyes and trying to keep the despair from drowning her. Her voice came out quiet and defeated as she continued. “No matter how much I love her. That is the end of the discussion. Why would she want to come back anyway?”

Silence enveloped the room at her words, weighing heavily on everything. The Commander could feel despair seeping into her, dragging her down. She couldn’t wait to get to her room and wallow in the silence.

She sighed and started to turn back toward the stairs so she could retreat to the loneliness of her room.

“Heda wait.”

The Commander reluctantly halted her ascent of the steps as Lincoln’s words cracked through the silence like a whip. She turned slightly to show that she was listening.

“Heda,” Lincoln continued, walking up to stand on the lowest step. She saw him raise his hand imploringly out of the corner of her eye. “Clarke hates Finn. She won’t marry him.”

Anger flared up inside her, overwhelming the small spark of hope she could feel. Clarke was betrothed to Finn. There was no way that what Lincoln said was true and the Commander could not allow hope to blossom. Even if what he said was true, it was better for Clarke.

“Enough!” the Commander snarled, turning fully around to face Lincoln. She felt a small flash of guilt as Lincoln nearly fell off the bottom step in his haste to get away from her bared teeth.

She whipped back around and tried to rein in her anger. Her warriors didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

“Clarke has gone back to town and is not coming back,” she said quietly, knowing that everybody could hear her. “Her loving me is impossible and I do not want to hear another word on the subject.”

Silence met her words once again. Before any of her warriors could go against her orders like they were wont to do, the Commander whirled around and bounded up the steps on all fours.

Despair seemed to drag her down with each bound. Flashes of Clarke invaded her mind as she tore through the castle. Pain erupted in her chest with each memory.

She slammed the door of her room closed behind her as she burst into her bedroom. She immediately grabbed the nearest thing she could and threw it across the room as hard as she could, rage at her own stupidity suddenly flashing through her. There was no chance of a future between her and Clarke. Any delusions she had had otherwise were pure insanity.

The table disintegrated, splintering apart upon impact. The Commander tried to contain the pain and despair she could feel coursing through her.

Suddenly, a fluttering piece of paper caught her eye. She slowly stepped forward and watched it float back to earth, her curiosity piqued. She vaguely wondered if it had fallen off the table she had just thrown as she reached up to pick the paper from the air.

She eyed the back curiously for a second, hoping her any distraction, before turning around.

Her own face drawn in charcoal stared back at her. Emotion seemed to radiate off the page. Quiet fierceness, love, kindness, and strength harmonized to form a portrait she couldn’t reconcile with herself.

Years spent around Lincoln and Costia helped her see the painstaking hours the artist had taken to get each line and smudge of charcoal just right. Days spent around Clarke helped her see exactly who had spent those countless hours.

The Commander tilted her head back and howled in despair.


	17. Held Captive Yet Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the next chapter. I hope you guys like it.

Clarke glared frustratedly at the paper in front of her. She couldn’t seem to get any sketches of Lexa right. The love and kindness she had seen appear over the past week always seemed to give way to the stone cold fierceness and sadness she had seen right before Lexa had turned away from her and left her in front of the Azgeda castle.

Clarke sighed and set aside her sketch, turning to take in her mother’s sleeping form. Relief swept through her as she recalled all of the scares from the night before before she could get her mother back to their cottage. She tried not to think about the fact that even now there was still the chance that her mother could take a turn for the worse.

Suddenly, a sharp report of knocks on the front door cracked through the silence. Her mother immediately groaned and shifted in her sleep.

“Shh. It’s okay, Mother,” Clarke murmured soothingly, getting up from her seat next to her mother’s bed. “I’ve got it.”

She quickly hurried out of the room to get the door. She let out a string of choice expletives she had picked up from Raven in their language as another loud barrage of knocks assaulted her.

“Be quiet,” she hissed, wrenching the door open. “My mother is-”

Clarke froze in surprise as Finn was suddenly revealed on her doorstep. The second the door was open far enough, he shouldered his way inside. Clarke turned and stared at him in disbelief, her hand still wrapped around the open door’s doorknob.

“You’re okay,” Finn suddenly breathed out, scanning her from head to toe.

Rage erupted inside her at his words. He had no right to be relieved. He had no right to be in her house. He had no right to escape the ambush unscathed.

Clarke slammed the door as hard as she could without waking her mother, never taking her eyes off of Finn.

“No thanks to you,” she spat.

Finn scoffed and turned away, ducking his head into the kitchen. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt,” he said, ducking out of the kitchen and turned to look into the sitting room. More rage simmered inside of her as he started to search her home. “How’s your mother?” he asked, peeking into the bathroom.

“Fine,” Clarke bit out. Her hand itched for her knife. She regretted her decision to take off her weapons belt when she had gotten home. “Again no thanks to you I expect.”

“They promised not to hurt her,” Finn said absentmindedly, glancing into her bedroom.

Clarke saw red. Not only had he put her new family in danger, he had nearly gotten her mother killed all because he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Her hand twitched towards where her knives had hung on her belt as she stepped forward, opening her mouth to shout at him and cut him with her words until she could get to her real weapons.

Finn cut her off before she could say anything, stepping into her mother’s room. “How is the Commander?”

Sorrow flashed through her as she remembered how Lexa had looked the last time she had seen her. She quickly shoved it aside and let the rage fill her up again.

“Safe,” Clarke announced triumphantly, stepping into the doorway of her mother’s room. Finn stood next to the bed with his back to her, looking down at her mother. “So is every single one of her warriors.”

Finn sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair. “That will only make things that much harder,” he murmured.

Confusion and fear rippled through her. “Make what harder?” Clarke asked cautiously, trying not to let the panic she felt rising up inside her show.

“They’re dangerous, Clarke,” Finn explained, not moving from his spot. “They must be taken care of.”

Panic and anger seized her in a vice like grip. “You can’t!” Clarke shouted much too loud. Her mother shifted as arms suddenly wrapped around Clarke from behind. She struggled and turned slightly to find Murphy restraining her from behind. All the lessons she had learned from Octavia about escaping such a situation fled her as panic gripped her and she turned to look at Finn who still hadn’t moved except to look at the bedside table next to her mother.

“You can’t,” Clarke pleaded, struggling against Murphy’s hold. “They’re good people. Lexa is kind and gentle. She isn’t dangerous.” Clarke decided to leave off the part about how she was only dangerous, deadly, if she was provoked.

“That’s not what this picture shows,” Finn said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Clarke’s blood ran cold as she looked up to find Finn holding the drawing of Lexa she had been working on before he had showed up. The one she couldn’t get right.

“In fact,” Finn said before she could think of a response, taking a step towards her. “She looks extremely dangerous.”

“No,” Clarke protested. She struggled against Murphy as Finn started to walk out of the main room. Murphy moved them out of the way so Finn could walk toward the front door.

“Murphy,” Finn said without looking back.

Clarke screamed, doubling her struggles as Murphy hauled her into her bedroom. He unceremoniously dumped her on the floor in a heap. She scrambled to her feet and rushed toward the door just as Murphy slammed it closed.

She yanked at the handle desperately, finding it stuck fast. A shout of frustration and panic rent its way past her lips as she continued to pull at the doorknob fruitlessly.

“Don’t worry, Clarke,” Finn’s voice suddenly sounded from right outside her door. “The Commander’s pelt will make a wonderful wedding gift for you.”

All of her rage and panic and desperation erupted from her in a ragged scream. She started to beat against the door as the sound of Murphy and Finn’s footsteps receded. She stopped her useless beating of the door as the front door of the cottage slammed shut behind the pair.

Clarke scrambled toward her window, shoving her trunk underneath it so she could see outside. She knew her window was too small for her to escape, but she could see what was going on.

She looked out the window just as Finn hopped up onto a cart in front of a large group of men from town. Clarke couldn’t hear what was going on, but her alarm rose as Finn shouted, waving around her drawing of Lexa and whipping the mob into a frenzy. Even knowing Lexa’s warriors couldn’t die until she did and knowing how strong Lexa was, the amount of weapons in the crowd had panic choking her.

Clarke continued to watch as Finn’s impassioned speech drew to a close. He quickly swung onto his horse from the cart. He grabbed his gun from Murphy who was still standing on the ground and raised it, giving one final shout before leading the mob into the woods.

Clarke continued to watch them until they all disappeared into the woods. A strangled sob suddenly tore its way up her throat as she crumpled into a ball on top of the trunk.

After a few minutes, Clarke stopped crying. It wouldn’t help her friends to keep wallowing in her sadness.

She quickly straightened herself up and face her locked door. It was time to find a way out.


	18. Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here. Have a chapter from Raven's point of view because honestly I can't get enough of Raven. Hope you guys like it.

“We need to do something.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“It’s only been a day. She just needs time.”

“Does she?”

“She doesn’t mourn Costia’s death anymore.”

“None of us do. It was ninety-seven years ago.”

“So we have to wait another ninety-seven years for her to be okay again?”

“Not necessarily. We could be waiting longer or shorter. How bad was her slump after Costia died?”

Silence suddenly fell over the small group of people still huddled in the entry hall of the castle. Raven paced one more time before fully realizing silence had descended on the room, only half listening to the conversation, her mind whirring with possibilities of getting Clarke back.

She came to a halt next to Anya and looked at everybody to find them all looking at her and Anya expectantly.

“What are you looking at us for? Raven finally asked.

“You two are the closest to Heda,” Octavia pointed out like it was obvious.

“You were all there too,” Anya countered.

“And it was ninety-seven years ago,” Raven snapped slightly, continuing her pacing. “Costia cursed us with prolonged life, not prolonged memory.”

An awkward silence settled over everybody at her words. She expertly ignored it and ran through every possibility she could of getting Clarke back. As far back as she could remember clearly, Raven had never seen Lexa as happy as she had been when Clarke was around. She wanted her best friend to be happy. It also didn’t hurt that she was one of the best students in explosives she had ever had. She decided to ignore the fact that she was also the only student she had ever had.

An idea suddenly seized her as she thought of how Clarke had hit it off with nearly every person in the castle, especially Lincoln because of their shared love of art.

Raven whirled, vaguely aware of Anya catching her before she could lose her footing and fall. Everybody looked at her, startled. Anya just looked at her the same way she always did when Raven got excited about explosives: worried, wary, and exasperated, but also a bit endearingly.

Raven grasped her hand excitedly as the plan fully began to form in her head. She looked at the still startled looking warriors in front of her.

“Clarke’s satchel,” Raven said excitedly. She stepped forward at the blank looks on everybody’s faces, letting go of Anya’s hand and waving it around to emphasize her point. “She didn’t have it with her when she left.”

“She only had her weapon’s belt,” Octavia said, catching onto what Raven was thinking. Raven grinned as realization dawned on her face.

“Her satchel is still here,” Anya said. Raven turned to see Anya’s dawning realization.

She nodded excitedly. She felt Anya’s hold on her tighten slightly as she whirled back around to look at Lincoln.

“Lincoln,” she said. “Can you get her satchel from her room? Pack it with whatever art supplies you think she’ll like and then take Aden and give it back to her. You’ve got to convince her to come back.”

“You don’t think you’re up to the job?” Lincoln teased, a grin splitting across his face at the hope Raven’s plan brought.

“Please,” Raven scoffed, a matching grin crossing her face. She couldn’t help but feel her excitement grow as grins started to appear on everybody’s faces. “I’m more than up for the job, but someone has to stay and cheer up the Commander.”

Lincoln chuckled slightly and immediately turned to ascend the staircase.

Before he could get very far, Aden suddenly appeared at the top of the staircase. Everybody watched him in surprise as he flew down the steps, his violin trailing behind him and nearly smashing against the steps.

Uneasiness rose inside Raven as Aden rushed down the stairs, stopping in front of her and Anya.

“Raven. Anya,” Aden gasped, eyes wide with urgency as he tried to catch his breath. “There’s a--There’s a--”

Anya crouched down in front of him slightly, making herself eye level with him.

“Deep breath, Aden,” Anya ordered. “Start from the beginning.”

Aden took a deep breath before trying again, his words coming out in a rush.

“I was at the top of the tower in the east wing,” he relayed. “I wanted to practice my violin for when Clarke came back because I never got to finish my song for her, when I saw--I saw--”

Raven’s blood ran cold at the look of panic that overtook Aden’s features.

\-----

“Commander!” Raven shouted, bursting into Lexa’s room. The door flew out and hit the wall next to it with a crash.

“Lexa!” Anya shouted at the same time, a half step in front of Raven.

Raven squinted slightly, trying to search through the gloom to find Lexa. She quickly caught sight of a few snuffed out candles laying on their sides in the destruction that had become Lexa’s room. She silently sent a thank you to the god she didn’t believe in that nothing had caught fire. As much as she loved a good fire, Lexa’s room was a veritable tinder box ready to burn the whole castle down.

After a few more moments of searching, Raven caught sight of the Commander sitting slumped in a large chair by the open balcony doors. She despondently looked out the doors at the woods beyond, a single piece of paper clutched in her paw.

Raven shoved aside her questions about the paper and hurriedly stepped forward.

“Commander,” she said urgently. “There is a mob coming to storm the castle.”

The Commander sighed, her shoulders slumping even more. “I know,” she responded just loud enough for them to hear.

Anya immediately rushed out onto the balcony, studying the woods the Commander had just been staring at.

“Fifty men,” Anya called over her shoulder to Raven. “Armed with rifles, torches, axes, and pitchforks.”

Raven nodded, forgetting Anya couldn’t see her, as her mind started to formulate plans.

“Come on, Lexa,” she suddenly heard Anya urge. Raven looked up to find her crouched in front of the Commander, looking up at her imploringly. “We have to defend the castle.”

Raven held her breath as the Commander continued to silently look out at the woods. Part of her knew it was too early; the loss of Clarke still too painful. Another part of her hoped the Commander would kick it and help defend the castle they called home.

She knew her hope was misplaced. Lexa never loved halfway. She put her whole heart in it and when it broke, it shattered.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” the Commander suddenly whispered. Raven’s heart sank as her words carried all the way over to where she was still standing by the door.

She could see the same sadness that she felt on Anya’s face at the Commander’s declaration. They both hated seeing their best friend in pain.

After a few moments, the Commander turned farther away from Anya, seeming to collapse into herself. Anya stayed crouched at the Commander’s feet for a few more moments before standing up and picked her way back through the wreckage to Raven’s side.

The second Anya drew level to her, she turned and they walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind them. Raven’s mind quickly went back to planning and strategizing as they briskly made their way back down the corridor toward the entrance hall. She knew Anya was next to her doing the same.

Raven grinned as her mind suddenly strayed from the severity of the situation and into the lighter side that Anya and she had always strayed to when they knew a battle was approaching.

“The one with the most kills tonight gets to be the big spoon,” Raven said.

Anya turned to her and smirked slightly. “We both know I’m going to end up as the big spoon anyway.”

Raven grinned. “Doesn’t hurt to try."

Raven beamed as her words were greeted with one of Anya’s rare laughs. Her heart swelled at the sound. Ninety-seven years later and she still wasn’t tired of hearing it.

Anya sent her a quick adoring look before they both faced forward again and donned their masks of being lieutenant. They stepped out onto the top of the grand staircase a second later.

They were greeted by the fully armed warriors of the Commander’s army. At least the eight of them that were left not including her and Anya.

“Sen in!” Anya shouted as they started to descend the stairs.

Everybody stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the two of them. They stopped at the top of the stairs where the two branches of the grand staircase met. Raven stopped so she was standing slightly behind Anya and to the side.

“The Commander will not be fighting with us,” Anya announced. “But we are her warriors and we will protect our home!”

A shout of agreement immediately rose out of the small group of assembled warriors as Anya finished her short speech and stepped back slightly. Raven stepped forward so that she was at the center of the warriors’ attention. She gave them a second to calm down before speaking.

“The people we are about to fight are untrained villagers,” Raven said, making sure her voice carried. “That being said, they are out to kill us, so kill if you must, but try to go for just injuring them and taking them out of action rather killing them.”

Raven paused for a second, letting what she had just said sink in. She scanned the eight warriors in front of her, stopping to look at each one to make sure they understood before continuing.

“Now, I want Nyko, Ryder, and Bellamy up on these stairs with two quivers each,” she ordered. “Gustus, Indra, and Aden will flank the doors on the left and Lincoln, Octavia, and Anya will flank the doors on the right.” An excited grin crossed Raven’s features as she thought about the next part. “And I’ll be in charge of explosives.”

The second she was done, everybody rushed off to prepare for the battle to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> sen in = listen


	19. Escape

Clarke laid on her stomach and looked out of the crack between her door and floor. She could see two chair legs resting against the floor where it was propped up against the door handle, keeping her locked in. Small trinkets littered the floor around the legs, evidence of Clarke’s previous attempts at trying to knock the chair over.

Clarke silently told herself to tell her father the next time she visited his grave to leave a little more space between the door and the floor next time he built a cottage. The small space was nice for keeping out drafts but horrible for helping her get out.

She hopelessly eyed her previous attempts. The space was too thin to push anything actually worthwhile through the crack. She growled in irritation and flung her last pencil through the gap. She watched as it rolled across the floor and out of sight.

She kept her eyes trained on the place the pencil had disappeared before huffing and pushing herself up into a sitting position. Her head hit the wall with a muffled thud. She studied every inch of her room without moving, looking for anything else to fruitlessly throw under her door. She had been locked up for a half hour and it had started to get dark. At that point, it was nice to be doing anything even if it did turn out to be pointless. At least it was something.

Suddenly, her mother’s voice filtered through the cracks in her door. A spike of panic hit her at how close her mother’s voice sounded. Leave it to her mother to be getting up even after having been at death’s door only a few hours before.

“He’s just trying to do what’s best for you, Clarke,” she said.

Clarke’s panic instantly vanished to be replaced by anger.

“Letting me out and letting me go back to the castle would be what’s best for me,” Clarke growled.

In her mind’s eye, she could see her mother’s disapproving expression as she replied. “The Commander is dangerous, Clarke.”

Clarke scoffed. “She saved me twice,” Clarke defended. “And helped save your life as well.”

“She’s killed people, Clarke,” her mother pleaded.

“So have I,” Clarke half shouted. She pushed herself off the floor and started to pace her room, trying to reel in her anger.

“No you haven’t,” her mother said as if trying to convince herself.

Clarke let out a short, humorless laugh. “A lot has happened since I’ve seen you last, Mother. I had to get past a horde of bandits to rescue you.”

“They promised they wouldn’t hurt you,” her mother protested.

New found rage flared up inside of her. “You helped plan that ambush!” she shrieked.

“I had to get you back,” her mother protested in the loudest voice she could muster.

“I was happy,” Clare argued. “I was perfectly fine and well cared for.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” her mother demanded indignantly.

Clarke halted in her pacing as if hitting a brick wall as the truth of her mother’s words sank in. A slight stab of guilt pierced her as she thought about how her mother was just trying to protect her even if the threat wasn’t real.

“Please, Mother,” Clarke pleaded, walking over to the door and pressing her hands against the warm wood. “Please don’t let Finn do this.”

“The Commander is dangerous,” her mother said, a new steel in her voice. “She must be taken care of. Your father would agree.”

Irrepressible rage erupted inside Clarke at the obvious guilt trip. “My father would never agree to this,” she growled. “He would never agree to making deals with bandits. He would never agree to killing people in cold blood. He would never agree to me marrying someone I don’t love.”

A stony silence seeped into the cottage in response to her words. Her hands curled into claws against the door as her frustration mounted. As the silence grew, Clarke dropped her head forward, her forehead hitting the wood with a barely there thump.

“Your father is not here anymore, Clarke,” her mother finally said, her voice strangled with emotion. “He would agree with me on this.”

Clarke let out a shout of frustration at her mother’s words. She spun around and stared into the darkness that was now her bedroom, trying to calm down. She strode across the room to where she kept her lamp, her mind racing with new ideas on how to escape. She knew it was too late for her to be able to warn her friends, but she could still help.

She struck a match and lit the lamp, bathing the room in light. She silently watched the flame for a few minutes, thinking about the fire that burned in Lexa’s eyes whenever she was angry or passionate. Her thoughts started to stray to her friends and how much she had enjoyed their company. She couldn’t stand to lose them.

She couldn’t lose Octavia’s fierce loyalty or Lincoln’s quiet strength. She couldn’t lose Aden’s childlike wonder or Gustus’s steady patience. She couldn’t lose Anya’s strong take-no-shit attitude and Raven’s penchant for blowing stuff up.

Clarke’s reminiscing immediately screeched to halt. She spun around and scanned her bedroom for anything else she would need. She grinned as she found everything. It was time for her to make use of the lessons Raven had taught her and blow stuff up.

\-----

Clarke took a step back and surveyed her handiwork. She was sure Raven would have set it up with a little more flare and theater, but she knew she wouldn’t need it to work.

She nodded slightly to herself and grabbed a match from the small pile she kept on her nightstand.

“Clarke?” her mother's voice suddenly drifted through her door. Clarke stopped what she was doing, vaguely wondering what her mother had to say after fifteen minutes. “I’m doing the best I can, Clarke,” her mother continued. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

Sadness crept through the cracks of Clarke’s fading anger as she started to back up until her back was pressed against the wall of her bedroom.

“I know, Mother,” Clarke replied. “That’s why I’ve got to do this.”

“Do what, Clarke?” her mother asked, a small undercurrent of panic in her voice.

Clarke quickly struck the match against the wood behind her. The match lit up with a small crack. She looked up at the ceiling for a second.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Clarke whispered.

She immediately looked back at the wall and tossed the match as hard as she could without making it go out.

Everything seemed to slow down as Clarke watched the match tumble through the air. She sent up another apology to her father for ruining his handiwork right before the match hit the wall and the explosive she had rigged up.

For a split second, nothing seemed to happen. Then the wall blew up.

The wall exploded outward; stone, wood, and glass going flying out onto the grass next to the cottage. Clarke shielded her head with her arms as a few stray pieces of building material flew inward. Her ears rang as she straightened up and looked out of the hole she had just blown in her bedroom wall. She could vaguely hear her mother’s frantic shouts as her hearing started to clear. Clarke checked her belt one more time to make sure she had all of her weapons before quickly making her way across the room and through the hole.

Clarke whistled the second she cleared the wall. Almost immediately, Trikova rounded the corner at a gallop. He quickly pulled up in front of her. She reached up and grabbed a fistful of his mane before swinging herself up onto his back.

She turned back one last time to see Kane gaping in horror at the giant hole now adorning the Griffin cottage. Clarke couldn’t help but feel a small spark of amusement at the look on his face.

“Take care of my mother, Kane!” Clarke ordered, before wheeling Trikova around and tearing into the woods.


	20. Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up that there is some pretty depressing thoughts going through Lexa's head at the beginning. If you want to avoid those, if you start at the paragraph that just says 'no', you'll be good. Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The loud, methodical thumping of a log crashing against the front doors rang through the castle. The Commander ignored it and continued to look out the balcony doors at the woods.

She vaguely wondered what it would feel like to die. She wondered if it would be a relief after ninety-seven years of monotonous agony. She had lived too long a life. A longer life than she deserved.

A loud crash shot through the castle. The sounds of fighting immediately followed. The clash of blades and twang of bow strings mixed with the crack of rifles as her warriors defended their home. The Commander vaguely wondered why they were even trying. They had lived for too long. There was no reason to anymore.

The crash of a door being kicked in down the hall suddenly joined the sounds of fighting from below. The Commander continued to stare out the balcony doors as the sound drew closer. A part of her vaguely wondered who was looking for her. Another part of her couldn’t find it in herself to care.

The muffled rustle of the tapestry covering her door suddenly reached her ears. Slight curiosity shot through her despondency. She slowly turned slightly to see a figure standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Her superhuman eyesight quickly helped her identify the figure as Clarke’s betrothed.

A sharp pain pierced her at the thought of Clarke. She quickly turned back toward the balcony doors, not wanting to see the reminder of her loss.

Suddenly, the sound of a gun being cocked reached her ears. She kept her back to the door. She couldn’t find it in herself to care as the sound of a gun being brought up to someone’s shoulder reached her ear as well. She had lost too much. She was tired.

A near deafening crack suddenly rang through the room. Nearly simultaneously, a sharp pain exploded in her right shoulder.

The Commander roared in pain and started to turn back toward the door. Before she could get very far, a smallish object collided into her. She immediately flew backward and fell over the balcony railing, pain tearing through her shoulder as she rolled down the roof. The booming sound of Finn’s laughter reached her ears as she crashed to a stop on a ledge beneath her balcony.

She groaned slightly, rolling onto her stomach to relieve the pressure on her shoulder. A muffled thud suddenly sounded off to her right. She looked over to see Finn standing over her with a nasty grin on his face.

“Get up!” he ordered.

The Commander looked up at him tiredly. She couldn’t find it in herself to move. There was no point in fighting. There was nothing to fight for.

“Get up!” he ordered again, punctuating the last word with a swift kick to her ribs and sending her rolling closer to the edge of the ledge. “What’s the matter, Commander?” Finn asked, laughing darkly. “Too kind and gentle to fight back?”

The Commander just looked up at him sadly for a second before looking away. She had been kind and gentle once. Never too kind and gentle to fight back, but now she felt tired and sad. She felt too tired and sad to find it in herself to want to fight back. She just wanted to die.

Suddenly, a loud shout from below reached her ears.

“No!”

A sudden ray of hope pierced her despondency at the sound. She lifted her head slightly to look down into the courtyard below, hoping against all hope that what she had heard was correct. Her heart leapt in her chest as she caught sight of Clarke sitting astride Trikova in the courtyard.

“Clarke,” Lexa choked out in wonder. She couldn’t believe she had come back.

“No!” Clarke suddenly shouted again. “Finn! Don’t!”

Lexa immediately felt a new sense of purpose fill her up at the sound of Clarke’s voice. She quickly pushed aside the pain of her bullet wound and rolled over just in time to grab the stone club in Finn’s hands as he brought it down to deliver a death blow.

Lexa pushed her way up into a standing position, revelling in the look of fear that crossed his face as she towered over him. She quickly pushed him back across the ledge until he was up against the roof of the castle, throwing him against it.

Finn immediately began to climb his way up the roof with one hand, his other still gripping the stone club. Lexa threw herself after him.

She quickly chased him up the roof until they reached the peak, a low growl rumbling in her chest. As soon as they reached the top, Finn suddenly stood up as best he could and grabbed the club with two hands. He swiftly swung it at her head.

Lexa immediately leapt up to a higher position on the roof and grabbed onto the club with both hands and shoved, sending Finn tumbling down the roof. She watched in satisfaction as he scrambled for a hold at the edge of the roof. She quickly tossed the club aside and sprang forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and sending them both tumbling into the air.

With a painful crash, they landed on another section of roof. Lexa kept her paws on his shoulders as they tumbled down the roof. Within seconds, they landed on a statue lined stretch of roof.

Finn immediately rolled beneath her and sunk both of his feet into her stomach, sending her flying backwards. She allowed her momentum to drag her into the shadow of the roof. She landed in a crouch. She cast around for a hiding place. The empty spot of a missing statue quickly caught her eye. She vaguely wondered if Raven had accidentally blasted it off the roof or it something else had happened to it as she moved into position, keeping an eye on Finn as he picked up the club from where it had landed.

She silently watched as a triumphant expression crossed his features before he lunged forward and decapitated one of the statues. A look of confusion immediately settled on his face before he straightened up and started to look for her.

“Come on out and fight!” Finn shouted.

Lexa remained where she was, watching. After a second, Finn straightened up and started to walk forward.

“Were you in love with her, Commander?” Finn spat, pushing his hair out of his face. “Did you honestly think she’d want you, when she had someone like me?”

A sharp pang of insecurity hit her as he walked by her, holding the club up to his shoulder. Just as suddenly, the memory of Clark looking up at her as they danced flashed behind her eyes. It was immediately followed by the memory of Clarke in her arms after she had shown her the art room. Of Clarke tending to her wounds. Of Clarke drinking from her bowl over breakfast. Of Clarke’s mischievous grin right before she lobbed a snowball at her. Of the pages of sketches Clarke had done of her. Of Clarke’s laughter as they spoke. Of the smile Clarke would send her way even as she was talking with one of her warriors across the room. Of Clarke’s worried look when she had thought Finn was going to kill her.

A low growl tore it’s way up Lexa’s throat as she thought of all the ways she loved Clarke. Even if Clarke didn’t love her, Lexa swore she wasn’t going to die until she had seen her one last time. She couldn’t help the hope that filled her up that Clarke loved her too as she snuck behind Finn as he continued to walk across the roof.

Suddenly, Finn straightened up and turned slightly. Without another second’s hesitation he spun around and swung the club as hard as he could. Lexa quickly dived out of the way and under his arm, landing behind him in a crouch. Finn immediately turned and swung at her again. Lexa snapped her jaws shut on the club and pulled, swinging him around.

They both stumbled back toward the roof. Finn finally pushed at the club, sending Lexa reeling back as she let it go. He immediately swung at her. She jumped back out of his reach until she reached the end of the walkway.

A triumphant look marred Finn’s features as he swung the club up over his head.

“It’s over, Commander!” he bellowed. “Clarke is mine!”

Lex snarled and lashed out with her paw, sending him onto the roof. He landed back on the walkway on his back and immediately tried to scramble backwards.

Rage coursed through her as she lunged forward and wrapped her paw around his throat. She hauled him to his feet and swung him around until he was dangling over nothing but air, her paw the only thing keeping him from falling.

Lexa could barely contain her rage as his words echoed in her head. She snarled at the implication. Clark was no one’s, least of all his.

“Please,” Finn begged, his voice desperate. “Please. Let me go. Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything. Anything!”

The overwhelming fear on Finn’s face suddenly registered through her rage. Lexa felt a slight twinge of surprise as she realized she felt somewhat reluctant to send Finn falling to his death. Lexa could feel her expression turn to one of surprise as she wondered when Clarke had convinced her that she didn’t have to be the Commander she always had been. Even before, the Commander had killed with abandon.

Shock coursed through her as she realized what Costia had meant ninety-seven years previously. Love was strength. Love was finding the strength to keep going even in the darkest times. Love was finding the strength to try to become a better person. Love was a lot of things, but ultimately, it was strength.

Lexa slowly started to pull Finn back toward the safety of the roof top. She backed herself up until she had enough room to drop him to his knees. She kept her paw wrapped around his throat as she leaned over him threateningly.

“Get out,” she growled.

With that, Lexa threw him to the floor.

“Lexa!” Clarke’s voice suddenly rang out.

Lexa immediately spun around. Happiness filled her up as she caught sight of Clarke leaning against the railing of her bedroom balcony.

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Lexa started to climb up to her balcony. Lexa could feel her heart beating against her ribcage as she drew closer to Clarke. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the blonde as she finally reached the balcony.

“Clarke,” Lexa breath.

She slowly reached out and cupped Clarke’s face in her palm. Her heart soared as Clarke leaned into it, reaching up and stroking her wrist.

Lexa couldn’t contain the bark of laughter that made it’s way out of her as it fully sank in that Clarke was in front of her. Clarke let out a yelp of surprise as Lexa grabbed her hips and spun her around, another bark of laughter making it’s way past her lips. She set Clarke back on her feet in the doorway of her room, the blonde’s back to the room.

“You came back,” Lexa said wondrously, reaching forward again to cup Clarke’s cheek.

Before Clarke could say anything in reply, the click of a gun being cocked suddenly rang out across the balcony. Lexa spun around and pushed Clarke behind her just in time for the gun to go off.

Pain flared through her abdomen as the bullet hit home. Lea immediately started to fall backwards. She barely had the time to panic that she was going to collapse onto Clarke before she hit the ground, nothing underneath her.

Lexa gripped at her abdomen and turned her head to the balcony just in time to see a knife bury itself to the hilt into Finn’s chest. Finn stared down at it in shock, his gun clattering to the ground. He looked up just as Clarke came into Lexa’s view. Finn immediately opened his mouth to protest.

Before he could say a word, Clarke lifted her boot and planted it on his chest right next to the knife. With barely a grunt of effort, Clarke kicked forward.

Finn seemed to hang in midair for a second before toppling over the railing. A gurgling scream rent the air as he started to fall. It quickly started to recede and Lexa strained her hearing through the pain just in time to hear Finn hit the stone of the courtyard below.

Silence descended as everything seemed to stand still. It was over.

Suddenly, a fresh wave of pain ripped through her. Lexa barely contained her howl of agony as she wrapped her arms harder around her abdomen.

“Clarke,” she choked out.


	21. Transformation

Clarke whirled around at the sound of her name. Her eyes widened in shock and panic shot through her as she caught sight of the wound in Lexa’s abdomen.

Clarke immediately rushed to Lexa’s side. She vaguely felt the pain of her knees hitting the stone as she fell, but ignored it as she took in the blood seeping from beneath Lexa’s paws.

“Don’t worry,” Clarke assured, gently moving Lexa’s paw so she could look at the damage. She quickly tore the bottom of Lexa’s shirt in half, panic coursing through her as blood continued to pour from the wound. “I’m going to fix this,” Clarke assured, looking up at Lexa even as fear filled her.

Clarke looked up at the doorway of Lexa’s bedroom. “Lincoln!” Clarke shrieked. “Lincoln!”

Clarke quickly looked down at the bullet hole in Lexa’s abdomen and started to run through all of the supplies she needed.

“Don’t worry, Lexa. I will fix this,” Clarke stressed, her promise sounding false even to her.

“Clarke,” Lexa said quietly.

Clarke ignored her and continued to look at the wound. Her hands hovered uselessly, unsure of what to do.

“Lincoln!” Clarke shouted. She knew Lincoln would have what she needed.

“Clarke,” Lexa said again.

Clarke finally turned to look at Lexa, her heart breaking at the obvious pain Lexa was in.

“I’m going to fix this,” Clarke promised.

Her heart sank as Lexa immediately shook her head.

“Don’t be afraid, Clarke,” Lexa whispered. Fear filled Clarke up as Lexa immediately spasmed in pain, a small dribble of blood bubbling out of her mouth. “My time is up.”

Clarke immediately shook her head. She couldn’t accept that. She wouldn’t accept that. Tears started to blur her vision. She quickly shook them away.

“No,” Clarke argued. “I don’t believe that.”

“Clarke,” Lexa said again. Clarke quickly wiped away her tears. She wasn’t going to allow her last look of Lexa alive be blurred by tears. “I hope you find somebody right for you, Clarke. My warriors will protect you.”

“I don’t want somebody else,” Clarke sobbed. “I want you. I love you.”

A look of peace immediately crossed Lexa’s features at her words. Almost immediately after, Lexa exhaled her last breath. Clarke held her breath. She silently willed anything with power to bring Lexa back. Give her one last breath. Anything.

A loud crash suddenly sounded from the front of Lexa’s bedroom as a small group of people barged in. Clarke couldn’t find it in herself to care if it was friend or foe as Lexa didn't even flinch at the sound.

A painful sob wrenched its way past Clarke’s throat. Clarke squeezed her eyes shut as tears started to fall in earnest. Clarke tightly clenched Lexa’s shirt in her fists as more uncontrollable sobs tore through her. She had been too late. She silently cursed whoever there was to curse even as guilt coursed through her. She continued to sob as she leaned forward and rested her forehead against Lexa’s chest.

Suddenly, something under her hands shifted.

Clarke immediately sat bolt upright and stared at Lexa’s body in disbelief. She quickly wiped away her tears as the people by the door rushed forward. She vaguely wondered if she should be protecting herself before pushing the thought away. Clarke couldn’t find it in herself to care about anything other than seeing if Lexa would move again. Besides, they had had ample amount of time to shoot her if they weren’t friendly.

“It’s begun,” she heard someone excitedly whisper.

Clarke’s breath caught in her throat as Lexa’s body shifted again. Suddenly, Lexa started to shrink.

Clarke watched in awe as Lexa started to change. She started to shrink; her seven foot form starting to fall to somewhere around Clarke’s own height. The fur all over Lexa’s body started to recede, tanned skin taking its place. Her claws, horns, and tail all started to disappear until they were gone entirely.

Within moments, the transformation was complete. Surprise and shock coursed through Clarke as she stared at Lexa, who now looked exactly like the painting she had stumbled upon barely a week prior. Clarke vaguely wondered why Raven hadn’t made a comment about how it looked like Lexa was swimming in clothes three times too big as she waited to see what would happen next. The whole world seemed to hold its breath.

Suddenly, a violent cough exploded out of Lexa. Clarke lurched forward as Lexa immediately tried to sit up, another cough tearing through her.

“Easy,” Clarke soothed. She quickly put a hand on Lexa’s shoulder to keep her from sitting up any further as she moved so she could cradle Lexa’s head in her lap. “Easy, Lexa.”

Lexa resisted for a second before collapsing back to the ground. Clarke smoothed Lexa’s hair out of her face as she finally opened her eyes. She immediately let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding as she met Lexa’s fiery green gaze.

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed out in awe.

Clarke couldn’t help but smile as Lexa slowly reached up and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear before cradling her cheek in her hand. Clarke closed her eyes and leaned into it. Relief swept through her at the touch.

Their moment was suddenly broken by Raven’s sarcastic voice.

“Please,” Raven scoffed. “I knew Lexa would come back. There was no way she was going to let herself die before kissing Clarke at least once.”

Clarke looked up just in time to see Anya smack Raven upside the head. A relieved laugh bubbled its way up and out of her as Raven rubbed the back of her head and looked at Anya indignantly. Lexa was alive and her friends were safe. Clarke had never felt more relieved.

Within moments, everybody was laughing. Happiness filled Clarke as she looked around the loose circle of friends surrounding her and Lexa as they continued to laugh.

The second she was done looking at everybody, Clarke looked down to see Lexa looking up at her with overwhelming love.

“I love you,” Lexa whispered.

Love immediately filled Clarke up, making it hard to speak. She continued to look down at Lexa for a second before answering in the only way she could. Clarke leaned down and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the chapter. I hope you guys liked it. Although this looks like the final chapter, it isn't. I do have an epilogue planned. Unfortunately, I'm swamped next week with school and preparations for a funeral so I won't be able to get it out next Thursday like I usually try to do, but I will have it out as soon as possible. In the meantime, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.


	22. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. So before you guys get to the epilogue and the ending of this story, I just wanted to say thank you. Thanks for reading and leaving all your comments and kudos and things. I know I didn't really reply to any of the comments, but I saw every single one of them and appreciate them greatly. Thanks for accompanying me on the journey that was writing this story and I hope you enjoy the epilogue.

“Stop fidgeting.”

“I’ll stop fidgeting as soon as my suit stops rubbing.”

“Your suit isn’t rubbing and you know it. It was tailored made to your measurements.”

Lexa leveled her best glare at Anya where she was standing next to her. Anya just smirked back.

Before Lexa could retaliate, music suddenly filled the ballroom as Aden started to play the cue music for Clarke to come in. Panic gripped her as she turned to look at Anya and Raven with a fearful expression.

“How do I look?” Lexa whispered urgently.

“If you weren’t about to get married, I’d propose to you myself,” Raven replied, hurriedly spinning Lexa around so she was facing the double doors. A light smack and an over exaggerated grunt of pain reached her ears immediately after.

Before Lexa could turn and scold the couple behind her, the ballroom doors started to swing open. She subconsciously held her breath as the doors opened, slowly revealing Clarke on the other side. The second Clarke was fully revealed, Lexa’s breath hitched. Clarke’s dress was similar to the one she had worn the night they had had dinner and danced together except it was now white instead of dark blue. Her hair was also similarly braided, white ribbons weaved without and holding it together. A long train trailed behind her as she walked down the aisle between the few chairs that had been dragged in for the occasion and now held most of her warriors and Marcus Kane and Abby Griffin.

The second Lexa was done drinking her in, she looked up to find Clarke doing the same to her. After a moment, their eyes met as Clarke came to a halt directly in front of her. Lexa found herself floundering slightly as she raked her gaze over Clarke one more time before locking eyes with her again.

“You look absolutely stunning, Clarke,” Lexa finally settled on, breathing out the compliment reverently.

A light blush immediately dusted Clarke’s cheeks. “So do you,” Clarke returned with a large smile.

Lexa felt her heart swell in her chest as she turned slightly to offer her arm for Clarke to take. The blonde immediately took it with a small smile and tilt of her head before they stepped up so they were standing in front of Gustus where he was waiting to officiate the wedding with a proud smile on his face.

The second they were in front of him, he held up his hand for silence. The music previously filling the ballroom immediately ceased as Aden stopped playing and sat down next to Lincoln.

“Family and friends of the brides,” Gustus began, his booming voice filling the entire ballroom. “I’d regale you with the story of how we got here, but being a man of few words and seeing as how Lexa has waited ninety-seven years for this moment and I’m sure Clarke would prefer not waiting that long, I’ll skip the pleasantries and get right to the point.

“We gather here today for the marriage of Lexa and Clarke. So without further ado, I must ask: Do you, Clarke, come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Lexa in marriage? If so, answer ‘I do.’”

“I do,” Clarke immediately answered. Gustus’s grin grew as he turned to look at Lexa.

“Do you, Lexa, come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Clarke in marriage? If so, answer ‘I do.’”

“I do,” Lexa answered. She couldn’t help the big grin she could feel spreading across her face at the words.

“We will now exchange the rings and vows,” Gustus announced, gesturing over Lexa’s shoulder to Raven and Anya.

The pair immediately stepped forward and handed the rings over. Lexa smiled at them gratefully before turning back to look at Clarke.

“Lexa,” Gustus prompted.

“Clarke,” Lexa started, giving herself a second to compose herself. She took a deep breath before continuing. “When I met you, I was lost. I was bitter and angry and believed love was nothing more than a weakness to be eradicated. But you snuck your way into my heart and taught me that love is not weakness. Love is strength. And I promise to love you with all the strength I have through everything the world has to throw at us as long as I live.”

With that, Lexa took Clarke’s left hand in her own and slid the gold wedding band onto her finger. She couldn’t resist lifting Clarke’s hand and kissing the ring before looking up to find tears shimmering in Clarke’s eyes. She felt tears prick her own eyes as Gustus prompted Clarke to say her vows.

“Lexa. When I met you, I honestly could not find an ounce of love for you at all. You were coarse and unrefined and I had no love to give you, but you some how helped me find that love. I was able to find love in my heart for you and watched as it grew everyday and I promise to keep watching that love grow through everything the world has to throw at us as long as I live.”

As soon as she was done, Clarke took her left hand in hers and slipped the matching wedding band onto Lexa’s finger. Tears started to fall as Lexa looked up to see as much love as she felt shining at her in Clarke’s gaze. She couldn’t find it in herself to care enough to wipe the tears away as Gustus started talking again.

“By the power invested in me by, well, Lexa, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Not needing anymore prompting, Lexa leaned forward and met Clarke halfway. The ballroom erupted in cheers as their lips met. Lexa couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as happiness and love welled up inside her until she felt like she was bursting with it. She could feel Clarke smiling into the kiss as well and all Lexa could think was that Costia and Clarke had been right: Love is strength.

**Author's Note:**

> So there's the beginning. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll probably be sticking to a weekly update of every Thursday so keep an eye out for that if you like.
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes that were made. I don't have a beta and I can only proofread so many times before everything starts to look like a mistake.


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